


In the nick of time

by Velace



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and stuff, Mild Language, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a son, Sharing all the things., Smut - as per usual., Some Humor, Weird Plot Shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 18:26:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 32,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12917655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velace/pseuds/Velace
Summary: Emma isn’t the same after the Underworld but that’s okay; Regina is there for her, as always.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’m trying to write something. Not this. I got distracted. Posting potential multi-chapter fics appeases the muse. She’s an attention whore. Ignore her. Go play outside and pretend this isn’t here or something.

“-off.” Emma raises her head, blinking sleepily as the body beneath her squirms. Meeting her confused stare, Regina frowns before cupping the back of her head and pushing her back onto a pair of insanely comfortable breasts with a murmured, “Not you.”

Too tired to question it, Emma buries her face back between them and closes her eyes, sighing happily as her lips find warm skin. Fingers thread through her hair, stroking, lulling her back into that void between consciousness and unconsciousness.

“What are you doing?”

She groans. Her mother ruins everything.

“Nice going, Snow,” Regina drawls and wraps an arm around her. She grimaces and squirms some more before finally giving up. She huffs. “I was  _ trying _ to remove my boots.”

Emma hears the twin thumps of said boots hitting the floor beside the couch a moment later. “There,” Snow says. “What is  _ she _ doing?”

“She is trying to sleep,” Regina answers, her tone clipped. “Now, if you’d be so kind-”

Her mother sighs. “This is not normal.”

Emma stiffens and Regina growls. “Neither are you,” she retorts, “are we judging you? No. Thank you for removing them, now get out.”

“Re-”

Knowing Regina had just magicked her mother away by the faint scent of lavender in the air, Emma mumbles into her chest, “‘m sorry.” She has tried so many different things to fall asleep but after the Underworld nothing but being as close as humanly possible to Regina will do.

“Don’t be.” As the chest rises with a sigh beneath her ear, she feels the warmth of Regina’s breath against the top of her head before it’s replaced by the soft press of lips. Regina murmurs reassuringly, “It’s not your fault.”

Emma doesn’t respond because she knows it’s a lie but the fact Regina is kind enough to tell it is comforting. She’s the one who asked Regina to split her heart, the one who said she didn’t care about the consequences when Regina tried to warn her about the connection that would form between them. She’d stupidly tried to save Hook and ended up tethering Regina to her instead, taking yet another choice away from her.

She should have left him to rot down there.

“Emma,” Regina whispers her name like she  _ knows _ , like she can sense exactly what her thoughts are. It’s soft and affectionate but it’s also disapproving, and it brings a small smile to her face.

“Sorry.”

Teasing, Regina threatens, “You will be.” Nails drag along her scalp, making her shiver. She grins and tries to escape by burying herself deeper into Regina’s chest, drawing a chuckle from the woman beneath her. “Keep that up and I might get the wrong idea.”

“Or the right one,” Emma mumbles, holding her breath in the next second. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

Regina playfully tugs at her hair before kissing the top of her head again and tightening the arm draped across her back. “Go to sleep, Emma.”

Relaxing, she brings the arm hanging down beside the couch up and slides her hand under a hip, snuggling in close. She’ll find a way to make it up to Regina.

Maybe after her nap.

 

* * *

 

Regina knew. The moment she stepped foot in the Underworld, she knew. It took literally following Emma to Hell for her to figure it out, but once she had, she realized just how blind they’d both been and how willing she was to do almost anything for Emma. She really should have fought her on the heart thing given her realization.

Hearing Emma apologize, she does feel a little guilty for caving as quickly as she had. She’d known what would happen and she did try to explain but if she’s being honest with herself, she really hadn’t tried all that hard. Emma could be stubborn when she set her mind to something, but she hadn’t needed to be this time. 

One little  _ please _ , and Regina had split her heart in two. All she had to do after that was wait and her suspicions were confirmed the moment Emma tried to place one half of her heart inside the mangy pirate’s chest.

Three days after their return and Emma had stumbled into her office while looking half-dead, and virtually begged her for her help. Regina couldn’t have turned her away even if she had wanted to, though she hadn’t. Once all the old feelings resurfaced and she had confirmation that Emma was indeed hers, she’d been ready to do anything Emma asked of her.

In truth, sleeping isn’t quite what she had in mind, but Emma had clearly needed it and Regina was happy to act as her pillow for as long as Emma needed her to.

It’s been a week and there is no doubt in her mind; it has been the greatest week of her life. Knowing what they’re doing both confounds and annoys Snow White had delighted her almost as much as learning Emma likes to cuddle; a fact, Emma had pointed out to her absolute glee, Killian Jones was not privy to.

Finding out they hadn’t even shared a bed had been the icing on the cake.

Glancing up at the clock, Regina sighs. She will need to wake Emma soon if she wants to be home on time for their son when he returns from school.

“We really need to come up with a better arrangement than this.”

Stroking a hand down the length of Emma’s back, she sighs again and closes her eyes, determined to enjoy what little time there is left before they’re forced to return to the real world.

Maybe if she gave Emma no other choice, she could convince her to move in with them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, we're doing this again. Apparently.

_ If you’re still tired when your shift ends, come to the house. _

Emma had received the text a couple of hours ago. She hadn’t replied because she’d honestly been too shocked by the offer but after the day she’s had, she really could use a proper night’s rest. Napping every afternoon at her house has been all well and good, but the lack of sleep is bound to catch up with her eventually and as Sheriff, that probably won't end well for her or the town if they happen to be attacked.

Standing on the porch of 108, she hesitates. Maybe she should have texted or called first. It is close to midnight and if Regina has already gone to bed, then-

The door swings open before she finishes the thought. “Were you ever intending to knock?” 

Struggling not to let her gaze wander, she stares hard at Regina’s face while gaping stupidly. She’d only been standing here for two minutes, if that.

Regina rolls her eyes. “Come inside.”

She grabs the front of her shirt and tugs her through the door before Emma even has time to think about protesting, and whatever protest she might have considered giving dies on the tip of her tongue as soon as she’s inside, a mouthwatering scent hitting her smack in the face.

“I thought you might be hungry and heated up some leftovers for you,” Regina explains the heavenly smells while taking her jacket and hanging it up. “If not, I heated them with magic, so they should be fine for you to have for tomorrow’s lunch.”

Emma continues to stare at her, although her gaze is a lot softer. Maybe it should annoy her; the assumption that she would come despite having ignored the text. That she might not, and Regina having prepared regardless though; nothing has ever made her heart flutter or her chest warm the way it does in this moment.

When her stomach growls, Regina eyes her a moment, the flicker of a smile on her face when she turns and beckons over a shoulder, “This way, dear.”

Emma follows, practically drooling by the time they reach the kitchen. Although she feels guilty thinking it given the circumstances, she really thinks she could get used to Regina being so nice to her.

“Sit.”

She does, waiting eagerly as Regina bends over and retrieves the food from the oven. Her mouth waters, the scents stronger but the view far sweeter. She shakes her head and inwardly scolds herself. It was one thing to bask in the soft warmth of Regina’s chest while she drifted off to sleep but no matter how slowly Regina straightens or how short the robe is, she  _ really _ shouldn’t be ogling her backside.

Cheeks warm, she ignores Regina’s gaze (and smirk) in favour of the plate that is set in front of her. She’s always been a little bit gay, but it’s hardly a worthwhile reason for letting her food get cold.

* * *

 

Watching Emma eat has always fascinated Regina. Emma doesn’t so much as chew her food as she does inhale it in its entirety, and there exists no greater compliment to her cooking than the sounds Emma makes when she does.

They’re borderline pornographic.

Leaning against the counter, amused, she questions over the lip of her wine glass, “Good?”

“So good,” Emma half-moans, half mumbles around a mouthful of fettuccine. Regina knows she loves pasta, as had Henry when he’d ambled into the kitchen and given her  _ the _ look while she was making the dish. 

It’s all a part of her plan, of course. The more reasons Emma has to stay, the less likely she is to say no when Regina eventually suggests she move in. Henry had been on board when she caved and told him why she was cooking a separate meal from what they were having, so she’s confident the plan isn’t  _ too _ terrible, or questionable. 

“Drink?” Emma wrinkles her nose and opens her mouth, likely to insult her wine because she’s a  _ barbarian _ . Regina interrupts, “I bought beer.”

Her jaw clicks shut, eyes round and face soft as she ducks her head, expression sheepish. “Please.” 

Fetching a bottle from the fridge, Regina slides it across the counter. Emma catches it in her free hand, the other still wrapped tightly around her fork. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

The silence that passes between them lasts for all of about two minutes, broken by Emma’s moan as she takes another bite of pasta. Regina chews the inside of her cheek and decides to sit down, making it far easier to adjust herself without Emma noticing. She really is far too adorable for words, and those sounds are just-

Suffice it to say, Regina won’t be short on fantasies for a while.

Clearing her throat, she asks, “So, how was your day?”

Emma groans, and not in a good way. “Honestly, you’ve been the only good thing about it.”

Regina beams on the inside but frowns on the out. She’d been hoping Emma would be in better spirits than she had been when she’d shown up at the house for their little daily napping session. “What happened?”

Emma grimaces. “The usual,” she replies, brow furrowing as she glances down at her food. She sighs and stabs her fork into it before pushing it away. “Mom sticking her nose in, Dad wanting to bond, Hook- well, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you about him.”

Jaw clenching, Regina remains silent. Anything she has to say about him, Emma has already heard. There is a lot she could say about Hook that she hasn’t, but she keeps those to herself. Emma learning all the ways she has thought about murdering him likely isn’t the best way to ensure Emma continues to seek her out rather than give in to the demented little man-child who can’t take a hint, even when it’s so brutally smacked him around the head.

“You have a little-” Her eyes snap up and Emma grins. “-homicide,” she continues, gesturing to multiple parts of her face. “Here, here and…” Her grin widens and she waves her hand all around, gesturing to her face in its entirety.

Regina bites her lip, stifling a laugh before she offers, “Shut up.”


	3. Chapter 3

Emma can sleep through a lot. People talking in her ear, car horns, planes- one time, she woke to the sound of a gunshot while living in Boston, and promptly fell back to sleep. Someone poking her in the cheek? That’s apparently where her mind and body draw the line. Shoot someone, and it’s someone else’s problem but poking, poking is going too far.

“Go ‘way.”

“I think not,” is the reply, the silky smooth drawl somehow familiar to her sluggishly slow brain. “It’s 10am.”

While she processes the relevance of that piece of information, the annoying finger turns to circling. It’s still annoying but vaguely less so than having a nail constantly jabbed into her cheek.

“Em-ma.” Grumbling, she cracks an eye open in time for the finger to poke her in the nose. She shies away from it, grumbling some more as she reaches for the blanket down by her waist and yanks it up over her head. Regina laughs softly and teases, “That would be more effective if you hadn’t covered me as well.”

Throwing the blanket back, Emma glares at her but it doesn’t last because the finger becomes multiple and then a hand is caressing her cheek. Honest to god, she melts and, truthfully, she’s a little miffed her own body is such a traitor.

“You’re adorable.” She pouts and then there’s a smile, so warm and bright and... coming closer for some reason.

Lips on her forehead, her lids flutter shut and yeah, no,  _ now _ she melts. She shifts closer when Regina retreats, draping an arm over a hip as she buries her face in Regina’s neck and mumbles, “How are you so sweet, and so  _ annoying _ at the same time?”

“I’m very talented.”

“Mhmm,” she hums, breathing in deeply, and then letting the breath out slowly as she tries to burrow even deeper into the soft, lavender warmth that seems to linger on Regina’s skin no matter where she hides her face.

“I’m a little too old for teddy bears, dear.” When she fails to make even a token attempt at moving away, Regina sighs. “You’re going to be late for work- and you’re not going to need a nap this afternoon.”

Emma gasps and jerks back far enough to look up at Regina but the feigned horror in her expression quickly evaporates at the hard glare of those eyes. It’s enough, she thinks, to sober even the drunkest of men. She’d known Regina enjoyed their time together, but she hadn’t realized exactly how much.

“I’m sorry?” When the apology garners her nothing more than a raised brow, she nibbles her lower lip and tries again. “Thank you for doing this for me; I haven’t slept that well in… ever.”

Regina sniffs, disinterest in her tone when she says, “Yes, well, we can’t have you falling asleep on patrol.”

Wincing inwardly, Emma sighs and considers rolling away and getting out of bed. If she’s upset Regina already, then there’s a good chance it’s only going to get worse.

“We should get up.”

“Yeah,” she says, not moving an inch, hesitating before she admits, “I really like falling asleep with you.”

She knows it was precisely the right thing to say when Regina’s mouth twitches. “Oh?”

Praying she isn’t about to completely screw everything up, she nods. “You’re warm… and you smell good.” She offers a lopsided grin before she adds, “The bed’s not bad, but you’re still more comfortable and I would  _ really _ like to nap with you this afternoon, if you don’t mind.”

Though she appears vaguely suspicious with narrowed eyes, Regina heaves a sigh after a moment and drawls, “I  _ suppose _ I could make  _ some _ time for you.”

 

* * *

 

Emma’s words ring in her head long after she arrives at work. It had gotten to the point where Regina could no longer focus on anything besides them that she’d given up so much as pretending to be interested in her work. It seems that it’s going to be a lot easier to convince her to move in than she’d thought if Emma is already showering her with such compliments merely to lighten a, admittedly feigned, bad mood.

“Madam Mayor, your 12:15 is here.”

Frowning, she glances first to the clock, then to the intercom. As far as she’s aware, she doesn’t  _ have _ a 12:15. This past week, she’s made sure everyone knows she’s unavailable between 12 and 3 so that Emma has at least a couple of hours of uninterrupted sleep.

As Emma isn’t here yet, however, she reaches for the intercom and tells her secretary to send them in. She regrets it as soon as the door opens and Snow White enters her office.

“Dear god, what the hell do you want?”

Brow rising, Snow gently closes the door and moves towards her. She cuts right to the chase. “I want to know what’s going on between you and Emma.”

Regina snorts. “And you thought asking  _ me _ was going to get you any answers?” She chuckles, sitting back in her chair and shaking her head. “We’re minding our own business; you should try it some time.”

Snow huffs and glares at her. “It is my business, Regina, she’s my daughter.”

Eyes rolling, she drawls, “And that means she’s not entitled to her privacy, does it?”

“Not when there’s obviously something wrong with her,” Snow counters.

Regina stares at her, incredulous. She would have thought that would be the one time Emma was allowed her secrets without her busybody mother sticking her nose in. “You should leave.” Snow opens her mouth to argue but she interrupts, “If Emma wants you to know the details, she’ll tell you, until then I would appreciate it if you would cease wasting my time- it also wasn’t a suggestion, and I would be more than happy to forcibly remove you… again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno why Snow is always the pain in the ass. I really should stop vilifying her.


	4. Chapter 4

“Sorry I’m late, I stopped to get y-” Emma’s sentence ends with a squeak as a purple mist gathers her up and dumps her on the couch. “Um.”

The door slams shut. “You only have two hours left, lie down and close your eyes.”

Shaking her head, she leans forward instead and sets the bags still in her hands down on the table. One look at Regina’s face is all it takes. “My mother has been here, hasn’t she?” Regina doesn’t answer her but she doesn’t need to; the curl of her upper lip is answer enough. Emma sighs. “I’m sorry.”

Regina and Snow were becoming friends before all of this started, and now- well. They aren’t quite at each other’s throats, not to her knowledge, but if Regina’s expression is any indication then they’re not far from it.

“I have told you plenty of times that you have nothing to apologize for,” Regina reminds her. ”I have been dealing with your mother since before-” 

She cuts herself off, likely realizing how old the rest of that sentence would make her sound. Emma smirks. 

“You’re here to sleep,” Regina continues, ignoring her. “You are not here to make amends for the misfortune that is your mother.”

Emma shrugs. She knows, but that doesn’t mean she can’t at least try to make it a little less shitty for her. “Honestly, I’m not tired.” Regina scowls before she adds, “Like I told you this morning; I slept  _ really _ well last night. If you want me to nap, then I can definitely do that but-” She gestures to the bags. “-I bought you some lunch.”

“I’m not hungry.” Emma knows it’s a lie and she gives her a look that says as much. Regina rolls her eyes but she stands and moves out from behind her desk, walking the short distance between them. “Which-”

“Either,” Emma interrupts. They both have fries and nothing in either are too healthy that she won’t eat whichever Regina doesn’t choose. “Her Majesty’s choice.”

A brow rises but after a quick peek into both, Regina selects the one with the slightly-less-greasy-than-Emma-would-have-preferred burger, leaving her with the sandwich. Emma wrinkles her nose and begins picking off the tomato. She hates tomato.

“Give them here.” Dropping them into the container beside Regina’s burger, she happily bites into the tomatoless sandwich with a soft, exaggerated a moan. Granny definitely has nothing on Regina, but it’s not the worst sandwich she’s ever eaten. “Remind me to never take you out to eat in public.”

Side-eying her, Emma teases, “Is that your way of segueing into asking me out on a date?”

Regina glances at her in surprise before the small smile finds her face and she teases her back, “Considering my continued presence appears to be having a positive effect on your vocabulary, perhaps I should.”

“Just say the word.” Emma smirks, savouring her shocked expression when she adds, “And these porn star moans are all yours.”

 

* * *

 

It didn’t occur to her that Emma does it on purpose. The very idea makes her mouth dry with spectacular haste. Regina knows without even trying that she won’t be getting any of her work done today, especially not after they finished their lunch and Emma had shoved her onto her back and climbed on top of her.

She’s asleep, but it does absolutely nothing to dampen the arousal that had flooded Regina with those words. This really is all far too easy; she’d been counting on Emma’s stubbornness given it had taken her three days before she sought her out merely to  _ sleep _ . She’d been so looking forward to wearing Emma down but, she supposes, there is certainly something to Emma willingly playing along.

Considering who the last person to wear her down was, it probably wasn’t the best way to go about winning Emma’s affection, or compliance to start with. Regina grimaces. Just thinking about the pirate leaves a bad taste in her mouth, thinking about their relationship is- no, she has to agree with Emma here; the less their relationship resembles that train-wreck of a disaster, the better.

Humming to herself, she looks around at the mess the two of them had made. Only Emma could get away with falling asleep before she bothered to clean up. Shaking her head, but with a smile, Regina lifts her hand and flicks her wrist, sending it all into the bin beside her desk.

“Mmm. That smells nice.”

“Hush,” she murmurs, placing the hand in the small of Emma’s back as she rubs gentle, soothing circles. “You still have twenty minutes.”

“Told you I didn’t need it,” Emma mumbles, tipping her head back. Regina cocks her own to the side and peers down at her, her grin slight but there. Emma pouts and says, “I still think you have some sort of witchy spell on you that sends me to sleep the moment I touch you.”

“And I still think you’re an idiot, but I have the decency to keep that to myself.” Emma looks outraged before she concedes, “Mostly.”

“Uh huh.” Pushing up onto her hands and knees, Emma stares down at her as Regina reaches up and tucks a curtain of hair behind her ear, her green eyes scrutinizing. “So,” she drawls, “when’s this date?”

“Tonight,” Regina answers decisively. She’d thought about it and come to the conclusion that she would no longer let Emma surprise her. If Emma thought her playing, she would soon learn the difference. “Unless you have more worthwhile plans, that is.”

She wants to frown when, without word, Emma sits up. The only reason she manages to resist is because there are worse things in the world, she’s certain, than having a frightfully appealing woman straddling her waist.

“Will it really be a date?”

Forcing herself to ignore the temptation to look down to where those thighs part to hold her between them, her eyes haven’t left Emma once. She’d seen the hesitation there and heard it in the tone. “It will be whatever you want it to be.”

Emma sucks in her lower lip as her eyes brighten significantly. Regina is almost positive her own darken with the thought that goes through her mind. 

“Is there a dress code?”

She smirks, the question fitting into her thought rather well. She teases, “You can come naked if you like.”

Emma rolls her eyes and finally climbs off of her. “I think you’d like that a little too much.”

“You’d be half right,” Regina agrees, pushing onto her elbows as she gives Emma a once over and lowers her voice playfully- truthfully, “I’d like it  _ a lot _ .”


	5. Chapter 5

When Emma knocks on the door to 108 and it flies open a few seconds later, she winces. She considered calling to cancel their date but even thinking about it made her feel like an ass, so she’d decided to come in person and let Regina see why she thought it probably best they try again another night. Now Regina is glaring at her in a way that she hasn’t in a good long while, and Emma wonders if being an ass might have been the smarter choice.

“You’re late.” The words are quickly followed by a frown. “And hurt. What happened?”

Or maybe not.

Emma grins sheepishly. “An elbow decided it  _ really _ wanted to meet my face.”

“That explains nothing,” Regina snaps as she grabs her by the arm and tugs her inside.

Letting herself be manhandled, as per usual, Emma waits until they’re in the den before she explains, “Went to break up a bar fight, got hit on by the bartender, which started a  _ different _ bar fight and-”

Regina grimaces. “In a suit?”

“I’d just finished changing,” she defends. It isn’t like she planned to bleed all over the damn thing. “Dad called and asked me if I could deal with it on account of the fact it was… kind of my fault?”

“Hook?”

Emma rolls her eyes. If she thought he drank too much while they were together, apart he could be his own brewery. “Who else?”

“I really wish you’d let me kill him. He’s long overdue- you’d think his liver would have given out by now, but no such luck.” Regina gestures to the couch and demands, “Sit.”

Biting her lip, Emma does, peering up at her as she questions, “You gonna nurse me back to health even though I ruined our date?”

Sniffing, Regina kneels down beside her. “I can’t very well allow you to remain disfigured should I decide to give you another chance,” she drawls. “I do have standards.”

“I generally meet those, do I?”

“At least half,” she deadpans.

Emma pouts. “I might as well give up now then,” she mumbles.

“Why? You’re closer than anyone has managed yet.” Her chest warms and she’s fairly certain the grin she wears couldn’t be more dopey if she tried. Regina pays it no mind as she grips her chin and tips her head back, adding, “Now stop fishing for compliments and let me ensure there’s no permanent damage to one of the few things about you that appeal to me.”

The grin remains and possibly even grows. “If that’s what you consider a compliment,” Emma teases, “you might want to work on them.”

Regina makes a dismissive, strangled sound in the back of her throat but otherwise ignores her as she pokes and prods at her nose. Emma tries not to flinch. It hurts but it’s nothing compared to the initial elbow she’d taken to it and she’s confident it’s not broken.

Regina confirms it a moment later. “You’re lucky I don’t need to reset it,” she murmurs, letting her chin go. “Would you prefer magic or medicine?”

“Magic,” Emma answers swiftly.

Her lids flutter as soon as she catches the scent and she breathes in deeply. Regina chuckles at her reaction but she doesn’t care; lavender has always been her favourite smell and- 

Her eyes flicker open in realization; she really is an idiot.

Regina is smart and funny. She has one hell of a heart and she is, quite frankly, so far beyond attractive that Emma had a hard time in the beginning deciding between whether or not she wanted to sleep with her, or  _ be _ her. Regina fights tooth and nail for the things she believes in and the people she loves, especially when it comes to their son.

She definitely has the bad girl vibe down.

Maybe a little  _ too _ down.

To top it all off, her magic literally smells like home.

“You meet all of mine.”

* * *

It takes Regina a minute before she understands what Emma means and her cheeks warm. She had done her best to account for all of the ways in which Emma might surprise her tonight- she had even predicted the possibility of the suit. She’d made no such predictions when it came to Emma being  _ sweet _ , however, and it catches her off guard.

She is, in short, speechless.

“Too serious?” Question playful, she nods quickly, knowing it won’t offend her. Emma grins mischievously and says, “Now I know how to shut you up when you’re being mean.” 

Regina scoffs and lightly slaps her cheek in mock offense. She goes to stand but Emma grabs her hand and she stills, staring in confusion. “What?”

“I know you tell me not to-”

“Emma Swan,” she interrupts, pulling her hand back as she gets to her feet. She knows that look and the desire to smack it off of her is no less intense than it usually is. “If you dare apologize to me right now, you’ll get more than a tap on the cheek.”

“But I ruined our date,” she protests.

With a sigh, Regina waves her hand then reaches down for the tie hanging around Emma’s neck, giving it a slight tug. Emma quickly stands up. “There,” Regina purrs once the magic dissipates, hand flat against her chest as she smoothes the tie back into place. “Good as new, and you haven’t ruined anything.”

Quite the opposite, really. Underneath the concern for her well-being and the slight annoyance of her arriving late, having Emma appear on her doorstep a little roughed up and wearing a suit has only added to the fantasies that will keep her entertained throughout their little courtship.

“I assume you came hungry.” She laughs, low and soft when Emma immediately smirks, the answer clear in her gaze. “ _ Food _ , Miss Swan,” she chides gently, pressing a finger to her mouth when Emma’s lips part. “Yes, I know; I’m no fun.”

Eyes dancing with mirth and something far less innocent, Emma recaptures her hand, pulling it away from her mouth as she leans in and murmurs. “I bet you could be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought we all knew I hate writing dates.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't really feel like writing today, so this one is shorter than usual. I'll make up for it tomorrow, most likely.

There are worse things than being laughed at. Emma knows she isn’t really the seductive type. She’s more the sudden one-minute-we’re-fighting-the-next-we’re-making out, rough and tumble type of woman, but it’d been worth a shot-  _ Regina _ had been worth the shot, and when Regina is the one laughing at you, it is insanely difficult to be even a little offended by it.

What makes it even harder is the kiss on the cheek and pat on the ass Regina gave her for her trouble. It also happens to be the reason she’s still standing in the den five minutes later while Regina retrieves their dinner; she can still feel the pressure of those lips on her cheek and the hand on her butt. If the realization hadn’t hit her earlier, she’s certain she would be very confused right now.

“Swan!”

Starting, she quickly leaves the den and makes her way to the dining room. Her eyes widen when she sees the table laden with some of her favourite foods, a bucket of wine (with a few bottles of beer surrounding it), and a simple but beautiful vase holding a single red rose.

Blinking at it all, she slowly turns her head, mouth watering as she meets Regina’s gaze and questions, “Would it be too soon to propose?”

Regina smirks. “Although it has been almost five years,” she replies, “any time would be too soon, dear.” Emma frowns before she elaborates, “Once was quite enough.”

The reminder forces her frown into a grimace. She’s nowhere near insensitive enough to say it aloud, but she’s glad her grandfather is dead. Like marriage, going to jail once was more than enough as far as she’s concerned.

“Well.” Eyes narrowing playfully, she teases, “Way to ruin the mood, Regina.”

“Your face did that all on its own.” 

She gasps and feigns offense, a hand held to her chest. “And to think I was going to pull out your chair,” she says. Head held high and haughty, she pulls out her own and drops down into it. “No chivalry for you.”

“Oh no-” Regina drawls, deliberately slow as she drags her chair back and takes a seat. “-whatever shall I do without you?”

Staring at the spread laid out before her, Emma tries not to salivate. “Whatever you set your pretty little mind to, I imagine,” she replies distractedly, plucking a beer from the bucket.

“Stop that.”

The rasped words cause her to pause, to think about what she just said, and grin. There is definitely something to this  _ too serious _ business. “No.”

“I could throw you out.”

“You could,” she drawls, nonplussed as she lets her eyes roam over Regina for the first time tonight. Her stomach flips, arousal flaring in the pit of it before she swallows and says, “But then who’s going to spend all night appreciating your chest after you put so much effort into that dress?”

 

* * *

 

All the little compliments added up. Emma’s confidence at the beginning of the night started it all; Regina had laughed at the time, but only because Emma had surprised her yet again.  Over the course of dinner, there was more- hints to Emma’s desire. Emma wanted her in  _ that _ way, had realized and embraced it in a single night, and there was no feeling like it.

Dinner had ended almost two hours earlier. They’d talked about everything and nothing at all, pretended interest in a movie neither of them had paid any attention to whatsoever, and they’d both been relentless in their teasing. 

By the time it was over, Regina was ready to pounce and Emma hadn’t been faring any better if the fuss she put up about going home minutes prior was any indication. Adamant, Regina had distracted her with another kiss to the cheek, thanked her for the pleasure of her company, and firmly closed the door on any protests Emma might have thought up once she’d recovered.

Before undressing and slipping into bed, she’d received a text reaffirming her  _ meanness _ . 

She’s still grinning, eyes closed as she works a hand between her legs and gets herself off to the thought of deliciously inappropriate moans and the soft, throated- unexpected -purr of honeyed words, whispered into her ear.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically, this is longer than yesterday's one but, also technically, my word count is still short so... I guess I lied. I'll try again tomorrow.

“You look like shit.”

Raising her head, Emma stares blearily at what she assumes is her friend Red, but might in fact be an indistinguishable blob that has developed sentience. It being Storybrooke, she wouldn’t count it outside the realm of possibilities given the rest of the shit that's dictated their lives for the past four years. 

“Thanks.”

“Your woman not seeing to your needs anymore?”

“Not mine,” she grumbles, rubbing her eyes as she tries to stifle what might very well be her hundredth yawn in the last hour.

“Yeah, okay.” Disbelief. Amusement. “Want some coffee?”

Eying her a moment, debating whether or not she wants to ask, Emma decides not to. Whatever Red or the rest of the town think about her and Regina, they can keep to themselves. “Got anything stronger?”

Red quirks a brow and offers, “A baseball bat?”

Emma nods. “That’ll do.”

“Miss Lucas-” They both jump, startled. “-if you could refrain from bludgeoning my Sheriff for the time being, I would like to speak with her.”

“Sure thing, Mayor fancypants,” she replies. “You want coffee?”

Regina inclines her head as she removes her coat and drapes it across the table. Eyes falling to said coat, Emma sneakily reaches over and pulls it closer to her. “Please.”

“Coming right up.”

As Red saunters away, Regina takes her seat, seemingly not caring that Emma has stolen her clothing and proceeded to hide her face inside of it. “Good morning, Em-ma.”

“What’s so good about it?”

“I’m here, for one.” The laughter bubbles up before Emma can stop it, and then she groans, too tired to even manage that. She whines. “Fun night?”

“Go to Hell,” she mumbles, half-hearted at best with the comforting scent in her nose and the heat of Regina’s body warming her cheeks.

“Been there,” Regina drawls, “done that. For you, in fact.” At her silence, she sighs. “You’re mad at me.”

“No,” Emma denies quickly. Maybe a little  _ too _ quickly but- “I don’t mean to be. I’m just tired.”

“I admit, I…” The pause draws Emma’s attention and she finally raises her head again as Red places their coffees down. “Thank you, Miss Lucas.”

“No problem.” She flashes Emma a wolfish grin, already walking away when she throws over her shoulder, “You two kids have fun now.”

“There is something wrong with that girl.”

“Too many smacks around the head from gran.” Regina snorts and Emma smiles at the sound. She picks up her coffee and takes a sip, humming as she sets it back down again. “You were saying?”

Taking a breath, cheeks pinking, Regina says, “Last night, I confess I may have… forgotten, temporarily, about your little problem.”

Emma bites her lip to stop herself from grinning. She’d had her suspicions, which is, for the most part, why she  _ isn’t _ upset. Regina hadn’t been the only one distracted last night, and it was only when she fell into bed and  _ tried _ to sleep that she remembered just how useless it was to even attempt without Regina beside her or, more preferably,  _ under _ her.

“I have a proposition for you.” Raising both brows, she waits for Regina to continue. “Move in- and before you ask; no, I am not joking. We both knew our current solution wasn’t a sustainable one and if you live with me, I can’t very well kick you out.”

Drawing a blank in terms of the offer, she focuses on the latter half of the sentence and argues, “Yeah, you can.”

Regina smirks. “Yes,” she agrees, “but it reduces the likelihood of my doing so.”

Emma nods as her brain finally kicks in and she starts to think. Part of her should have expected the offer sooner or later, she supposes. Though if she had, she would have thought it would come  _ a lot _ later into this- thing between them.

There are pros and cons to saying yes, but she realizes fairly quickly that the only thing stopping her is the fact there is no one in the world capable of getting on Regina’s nerves faster than her, with the exception of her mother, and even then- she’s gained somewhat of a talent for it over the years that her mother has been lacking until more recently.

Meeting the expectant stare, she sighs softly. Regardless of how badly she wants to say yes, she should probably think about it for at least a few hours- and maybe give Regina a chance to back out should she decide later that it was terrible of her to offer.

“I’ll think about it.”

Head dipping forward, Regina replies, “That’s all I ask.”

 

* * *

 

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed but she didn’t fault Emma for needing time to wrap her head around it. Choosing, instead, to focus on the fact she hadn’t outright said no, Regina returned to her office a little while later and buried herself in work for the following three hours.

By the time lunch rolls around and Emma barges in, she’d almost forgotten this morning entirely. “You look awful.”

“No thanks to you,” Emma mutters and stomps over to the couch.

“I apologized.”

“No you didn’t.” Before she has the chance to consider and realize that no, actually, she hadn’t, Emma drops to a cushion as she adds, “It’s a good thing I didn’t have to work today; I might have crashed the car on patrol, or tripped and hit my head chasing Pongo- I could have  _ killed _ someone.”

Head shaking, Regina stands and rounds her desk. She leans against it, brow cocked. “Considering you waited three days before coming to me in the first place, I can’t help but feel you may be exaggerating the possible dangers involved.”

Emma gestures dismissively and says, “You better get over here and help me before the world ends.”

Snorting, Regina pushes from the desk and saunters over to her, enjoying Emma’s hooded gaze on the sway of her hips. Her skin tingles as she comes to stand beside the couch and stares down into those eyes. When Emma makes no attempt to move, her brow rises a second time and she questions, “Are we changing roles today?” Emma nods. “Very well.”

Glad she’d worn trousers, she throws her leg over Emma before hands shoot up and grab her hips. She pauses, curious as she glances down. “I have a better idea.”

A few minutes later, she’s underneath the coat she’d decided to let Emma keep earlier this morning, on her side facing the back of the couch with Emma’s arms around her waist and their legs entwined. “I didn’t know spooning was an option,” she drawls, her tone teasing.

Done with an abnormally loud yawn, Emma burrows into her neck and sighs, content. “If I can have this every night,” she murmurs, “consider it my yes.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay. Had a three day migraine. It was great; had a lot of fun rolling around in agony. Would love to do it again some time.

As soon as Regina opens the door for her, she frowns. “You looked happier when you left,” she notes, squinting. Suspicious. “Who am I murdering today?”

Smiling softly, Emma shakes her head and nudges passed with a few boxes. Hook had stopped by the house while she was packing up her things. After demanding to know where she was going, he’d moved on to pretending to be confused about the status of their relationship and- honestly, she’s a little surprised by how long it had taken her to get a clue considering how tiring she’d found interacting with him to be.

Glancing over her shoulder, she realizes Regina is following her, and smiles again. “No one,” she replies, hoping to ease the concern she sees in those eyes. “I might need to arrange a nap this afternoon though.”

“All you need to do is show up.” Pausing in the doorway to the master bedroom, she turns with the dopiest grin. Regina raises a brow. “What? My honoring a standing arrangement hardly calls for-” She gestures at her face. “-that.”

Emma shrugs. “I just figured since we’ll be sleeping together now…” The brow rises even higher and she rolls her eyes. “Don’t look at me like that; you know what I meant.”

“Sadly,” Regina says before slipping by her and entering the room. “I made room in the wardrobe for whichever of those pleather atrocities you refuse to let me burn and-”

“All of them,” Emma interrupts, deciding it better safe than sorry. If she doesn’t make it clear from the start, there’s a good chance that when she wakes up tomorrow morning, it’ll be to the sight and smell of her jackets smoking on the front lawn. “If a single one goes missing, your shoes will pay the price.”

Regina snorts. “If you think giving me a reason to buy more is a deterrent… speaking of buying things-”

“No,” She doesn’t even need to hear the rest to know where this is going. Walking into the wardrobe, she sets down her boxes then moves to the bed where Regina has just taken a seat. “Bar the occasional lunch, I don’t want you spending money on me.”

Regina shoots a look somewhere between forlorn and longing at her wardrobe. Seeing the argument forming in those eyes thanks to years of experience, Emma intercedes once more. “I have outfits you’ve never seen before. Trust me, I don’t need you buying me any more clothes.”

Regina slowly turns her head. Even more slowly, she blinks, then looks her up and down. “Like the suit?”

Emma forgoes an answer and tilts her head. From what she remembers of the night beyond the tie pulling, she can’t recall Regina showing anywhere near as much interest in her suit as she is now. “I have a few of those,” she offers, if only to watch the way her gaze darkens.

“I look forward to seeing them-” When Regina leans in, Emma’s breath hitches and her lids flutter. “-especially those that end up on my floor.”

Her stomach muscles clench, sympathetic to the sudden ache between her thighs. That Regina stands scant seconds later, seemingly unaffected by the tension in the air, pulls a whine from her throat Emma doesn’t think to strangle.

Regina looks down on her with a grin that says more than words ever could before she turns on her heel and saunters from the room, the sway in her hips mesmerizing.

 

* * *

 

 

Emma doesn’t make it downstairs before Regina has to leave for work, which she thinks might be a good thing. Another second in what she is already thinking of as  _ their _ bedroom, and she’d have more than just a mere  _ idea _ of what Emma’s clothes look like scattered across the floor; she refuses to even consider what damage they might have done to her kitchen.

Ordinarily, she wouldn’t play these kinds of games with someone she was interested in but there is something about Emma that tells her the pay off will be more than worth it. Naturally, such thoughts do nothing but distract her throughout the day and the more hours that pass, the worse her mood gets.

Once it gets to the point she’s snapping at her receptionist simply because her  _ pen _ has run out of ink and she can’t find another, she decides it time to return home. She has the wherewithal to send Emma a text to let her know where to find her if she still wants that nap, but otherwise tries to keep her thoughts as far away from Emma as possible.

Her success in that regard ends the very second she appears in her bedroom and hears the sound of the shower through the bedroom door because  _ of course _ during her perverted musings she forgot Emma wouldn’t be working until late this afternoon, and  _ of course _ Emma would be getting ready now rather than earlier.

Groaning to herself, Regina throws herself down on their bed. The world is conspiring against her, she’s certain.

She doesn’t move when she hears the shower shut off and she barely twitches when the door opens, but the, “Oh hey,” she gets upon Emma sighting her is unexpected enough that her gaze snaps from the ceiling to the phone Emma holds in her hand. “I was just about to answer your text.”

Eyes having taken on a mind of their own and traveled along an arm to a gorgeously defined bicep and across the unfairly appealing swell of breasts, Regina barely hears her. Not only is Emma in a towel but she’s still wet and with the sun shining on her the way it is, Regina can make out each glistening droplet. 

Tamping down on another groan, she reaches for a pillow and pulls it over her face. She wonders if this is payback- not from Emma, because Emma is entirely too incompetent to think of torturing her like this, but from the world in general.

Hasn’t she suffered enough?

“Regina?” She mumbles. “Yeah, I have no idea what you just said but I want my nap now so-”

The pillow is halfway across the room and she’s sprung into a sitting position before she even  _ considers _ that  _ maybe _ keeping her face hidden might have been the wiser choice.

“ _ What _ ?”


	9. Chapter 9

There was a lot of sputtering and unspoken curses, but Emma got the general gist of what exactly it was about her that Regina had trouble understanding. She didn’t care, but she got the gist as she proceeded to climb into their bed, towel and all. She couldn’t honestly say how long it took Regina to get over herself enough to get under the blankets with her, but it happened… eventually.

Now, she lies cuddled around Regina wearing a grin roughly the size of Texas. The tension in the air earlier this morning is nothing compared to the tension in the body she has her arms around. They’ve been lying here for who knows how long and Regina refuses to relax.

If she’d known how easy it is to work her up, those first few days in town could have been a hell of a lot more interesting for the both of them.

“I can feel you laughing at me.”

“Your senses are way off,” she counters, pressing her nose up against the back of Regina’s neck.

Regina shrugs her off and tries to curl in on herself. “Liar.”

Emma squeezes her waist. “Honest.” If she gave in to the amusement currently plaguing her and she  _ did _ laugh, then she could guarantee ample bed rocking involved. “I was just thinking about the morning you showed up at the B&B to threaten me.”

There’s silence but she knows all she has to do is wait it out before Regina gives in to her curiosity, and sure enough; “You mean when you were in your underwear?” She hums. “And?”

“And…” She does chuckle then but only because Regina somehow manages to stiffen even more. She continues, “And if I share, I might start to feel like I’m hugging a tree.”

Truth be told, she’s already starting to feel that way. If not for the warmth or steady breaths, she’d have had no choice but to assume Regina had died and rigor mortis was beginning to set in.

“Seriously, relax already. So I’m in a towel; accept it or do something about it, but this is ridiculous.” She’s not expecting the abrupt faceful of smoke or to suddenly be on her back with a weight bearing down on her hips, but she can’t complain. “Well... okay then.”

“You said do something.”

“I did,” she agrees. She simply thought  _ something _ would involve a magical pair of pajamas, or being kicked out of bed- Regina possibly leaving altogether and telling her to suffer with her sleep deprivation had also been a passing thought.

“Too forward?”

Head shaking, smiling, she reaches for hips and says, “I think forward went out the window when I got into bed wearing a towel.”

Nodding, Regina places a hand on each of her arms. “That’s true.” Fingers skimming from wrists to elbows, she questions, “What exactly was your plan there?”

“Sleeping, honestly,” Emma admits, “but I can’t say I’m disappointed with these turn of events.”

“No?”

With a breathy shudder as the fingers reach her collarbones, she shakes her head again and repeats, “No.”

“A shame then...” At her blank stare, a grin spreads across Regina’s face as she leans down and lead begins to form in Emma’s stomach. “It’s time for work, Sheriff.”

 

* * *

 

The words  _ I fucking hate you _ have never sounded better and for someone with a past like hers, Regina has heard them a fair few times throughout her life. It was a close call but she had been facing her alarm before she magicked herself on top of Emma. She had known exactly how much time she had to work Emma into the same state she was in before that tree comment. 

She had to congratulate herself really; not only was she successful in getting Emma aroused in time for work, but the memory of how she felt beneath her had lead to a rather satisfying climax later in the shower.

All in all, it was the kind of torture an Evil Queen could be proud of-

“Mom?”

-when she isn’t otherwise occupied with her son.

“Yes dear?”

Henry throws himself down beside her and thrusts a bowl of popcorn into her lap. “I was hungry and you were… not here.”

Flushing, she peers down into the bowl. “Is that chocolate sauce?”

“It’s good.” He rolls his eyes when she raises a brow and plucks a piece from the bowl, popping it into his mouth as he says, “Ma does it all the time.” 

Swiftly picking up the bowl, she places it in his lap instead. If Emma does it, then it’s likely disgusting; the things that woman has been known to eat are both varied and revolting.

“Your loss.”

She snorts. Returning her attention to the movie playing out on screen, her phone buzzes a few minutes later. She glances down at it, then to her son when she realizes it’s Emma texting her. He stares back, his expression far too innocent to be anything other than a lie.

Without taking her eyes from him, she snatches the phone from beside her and brings it to eye level.

_ Try it, you snob. _

“You do understand her telling me to do something means I’m even less inclined to do it, yes?” His grin says everything, the  _ sure, mom _ on the tip of his tongue loud and clear; his resemblance to Emma is becoming more apparent each day. “I think I’m going to regret asking her to move in.”

She shakes her head at him before texting Emma back;  _ Bite me. _

Determined to ignore any further communication from the blonde headed nuisance, she bends forward and sets her phone on the table. It buzzes before she takes her hand from it but after a split-second of indecision, she sits back, phone free, and tries to concentrate on the movie.

Tries, and fails.

After only two minutes, the stare Henry is apparently trying to burn into the side of her head is enough to distract her. She turns her head. “Yes?”

His expression blank, he questions, “You asked ma to move in?”


	10. Chapter 10

_Help._

One word and Emma was out of the station faster than- well, faster than it had taken Regina to send it. Usually, she doesn’t trust her magic for things like instantaneous travel but under the right circumstances, she’s willing to make an exception.

These are not the right circumstances.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Regina and Henry stare up at her, both sets of eyes wider than saucers, as though either of them have the right to be surprised. They do not. “I thought you were in trouble, you…” She sputters momentarily trying to come up with a suitable insult only to settle on her first choice. “You _ass_.”

In the seconds it had taken for her magic to gather her up and spit her halfway across town, she was convinced she was going to have a fucking heart attack before she got here. She almost wishes she had now just out of spite.

The things her mind had conjured up for her to imagine she would find on her arrival in those few seconds were-

“I’m sorry, ma.”

“He looked so _serious_ , Em-”

Closing her eyes, she waves a hand dismissively before bringing it to her face and pinching the bridge of her nose. She can’t remember a time she’s ever been this worried, or felt this sick. She is definitely not a fan, in either case.

“I am sorely tempted to disown you both,” she murmurs. To think she’d been willing to _flirt_ with Regina after the shit she pulled this afternoon, only to have her pull _this_ shit. “Swear to god.”

Hand falling back to her side, she opens her eyes and scowls at them a moment, then glances down at her phone. She’d been in the middle of a conversation with her father when she disappeared.

She throws the phone onto the cushion beside Regina. “You can call David and explain to him why his daughter disappeared without an explanation,” she says, “and also why I won’t be returning while I go and get drunk.”

Ignoring the twin looks of reproach that gets her, she makes her way to the kitchen in search of beer. If she’s going to feel awful anyway, she might as well have a reason better than because Regina is a thoughtless drama queen.

Surprisingly, she’s halfway through the first bottle before she feels the presence at her back. A glance over her shoulder let’s her know that it’s Henry.

She flashes him a small smile and guesses at the look on his face, “Bedtime?”

“Yeah.”

She nods. “Your mom?”

“She called gramps.” He chews the inside of his cheek, clearly hesitating. She cocks a brow. “She’s worried she upset you.”

Emma sighs. It couldn’t be helped; they’re a family of worriers. Some more than others. She will admit, having sat here for a good twenty minutes or so with nothing but her thoughts to keep her company; she’d been a little over dramatic as well. “She didn’t.”

“I know.”

Downing the rest of her beer, she stands and tosses the empty bottle into the trash beneath the sink. “Go to bed,” she says as she walks over to him. She kisses his cheek and promises, “I’ll take care of it.”

 

* * *

 

“Damn it, Emma.” Heart racing, Regina squeezes her eyes shut as she tries to calm it down. She’d expected Emma would return eventually. She did not expect Emma to magically transport herself from the _kitchen_ and appear right beside her.

“Payback’s a bitch.”

Eyes flashing open, she growls, “If I have time to text you, I have time to summon a fireball; it’s hardly my fault you overreacted.”

Emma grins. “Remember that the next time you’re in trouble and I don’t come to your rescue,” she teases before she kicks off her boots and climbs on top of her.

“Please,” Regina scoffs as Emma settles. Lifting a hand and threading it through her hair, she adds, “You can’t help yourself.”

“We shall see.”

“Yes,” she agrees, her earlier irritation dissipating beneath her favourite weight and warmth. She sighs and says, “And what we’ll see is you being the ridiculously brave imbecile you have been, are, and will always continue to be.”

Emma chuckles. “Keep it up,” she warns playfully, “the thought of you suffering grows more appealing by the second.”

“Oh?” Tugging at a lock of hair, Regina questions, “And how do you plan to sleep when your neglect causes my demise, hmm?”

“I…” Emma raises her head with a frown as she admits, “I hadn’t thought of that.” Regina hums knowingly and pushes her back down. “Henry said you were worried.”

“I was,” she admits. She’d only meant the text as a joke, but- well. Had Emma called, she would have explained but she can understand why Emma might have been upset with her.

Her concerns, of course, had been laid to rest the exact moment Emma decided to lie down.

“You should be relieved,” Emma murmurs.

Draping her free hand across Emma’s back and curling it around a hip, she prompts, “And why is that?”

“I had so many sext message ideas to send you.”

“Well,” she drawls, “thank goodness you almost had a heart attack instead.” Laughing, Emma shifts slightly and bites down on her shoulder. “What was that for?”

“You told me to,” she answers swiftly- matter of factly.

Again she shifts but before Regina can deny the claim or even question why Emma is staring at her in such a way, their mouths meet in a kiss that has her moaning against soft lips, fingers fisting in hair without conscious thought before it becomes conscious and she tightens her grip. The surprise of it is one thing, but the relief that she didn’t even know she needed until now is by far the more overwhelming of the two and she deepens the kiss almost immediately.

When it ends a few minutes later, she’s breathless and her eyes are closed as she rasps, “And that? What was that for?”

Emma shrugs. “I wanted to,” she replies before pressing another, lighter kiss to the edge of her mouth and burying her face in her neck. “Now shut up and poof us to bed; you owe me cuddles.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd be happy to blame this delay on the fact Snow is in this chapter, but in truth I'm still not feeling well.

“What is happening right now?”

“I can't speak for everyone else,” Henry replies, "but, personally, I'm trying not to laugh."

Emma nods. She can see the appeal. She’d be trying too if current circumstances didn’t involve her being awake at the ass crack of dawn. The awakening itself had been… not great. “I’m waiting for Regina to set you on fire,”

“I’m-” Regina pauses to glance at her. “You are?”

“Well, yeah.” The threat at least is fairly standard when it comes to her mother and the stupid stunts she pulls. “Who the hell waltzes into someone’s house, and then into their bedroom without even knocking first?”

Setting a plate in front of her, Regina deadpans, “Fairy tales.”

“What if you were naked?” She wasn’t, unfortunately, but still, a savior can dream.

And did.

Regina raises a brow. “Then she would have gotten herself an eyeful.”

She glares at Henry as he feigns choking on his food but her face softens at his grin before his expression turns serious, his tone still playful when he declares, “I’m too young for this.”

Regina rolls her eyes. “Finish your breakfast.”

“Duh,” he drawls as he stands, pancakes in hand. “I’m going to the den though; this is traumatic.”

Emma smirks. “Drama queen.”

“Bubble butt,” he counters, laughing at her gasp as he strolls out of the kitchen.

“Hmm.”

Head whipping around, Emma hides a smile when she notices where Regina’s gaze is. “You,” she says, successfully drawing her attention and quickly sitting down. “-shut up.”

“Make me.”

Snow huffs. “Could one of you two _please_ explain what is going on?”

Emma sighs. In an ideal world, people would mind their own damn business and her and Regina could live happily, in peace, not explaining themselves to anyone, preferably asleep. Unfortunately, they don’t live in an ideal world and her mother needs to know everything, and unless someone is willing to kill her beforehand, she’s going to find out.

“I’ve been having trouble sleeping since the Underworld,” Emma explains, dismissing the thought. Tempting as it can be from time to time, she _does_ love her mother. “I moved in and now I’m sleeping with Regina; trouble gone.”

“ _What_?”

“Just sleeping,” she assures before she notes Regina’s frown and quickly adds, “I mean, I’m not averse to the idea but there’s been no hanky panky.”

 _Sadly_.

Regina smirks.

“Not _averse_?”

Emma winces. She’d forgotten just how high-pitched Snow’s voice can get when she's hysterical.

“Snow, if you continue that unholy screeching, I’m going to force feed you those pancakes,” Regina threatens. “ _Eat_ and take the time to _think_ before you rupture your daughter’s eardrums.”

 

* * *

 

The fact it actually _works_ surprises her as much as it does Emma. They share a look of confusion before she shrugs. If that’s all it takes to shut Snow up, then she isn’t going to ruin the miracle by _questioning_ it like an imbecile. “Coffee?” She offers after a moment.

“Please,” Emma murmurs, eying Snow one last time before she digs into her own pancakes.

Regina smiles fondly and shakes her head. “Not you,” she says, preemptively raising a hand before Emma can argue. “When you’re done with those, you’re going back to bed; it’s too early for you to be up.”

“Oh.” Emma deflates with a muttered,  “Thank God.”

Regina chuckles and reaches over to squeeze her shoulder. It’s almost eight am but this morning, she’s far more sympathetic to her plight. After last night, she’d been looking forward to waking up with Emma and what said wake up would entail.

Would they kiss again?

Would Emma’s mouth really be as soft as her mind insists it had been?

Would it be the same slow, languid caress of lips or would it have been easier to work Emma into a frenzy?

Could it have lead to the same place her dreams went?

She couldn’t quite remember ever having so good a reason to be late for work.

Swallowing down the sudden bubble of annoyance that threatens to rise up and tear into the woman who ruined their morning, she clears her throat and tries again. “Snow? Coffee?”

What she supposes is meant to pass for a smile crosses the abominable woman’s face.  “Thank you, but I’d prefer tea… if you have any.”

Hiding a grimace, she wanders over to the cupboard she keeps stocked for when Zelena visits. If not for her sake, she would happily toss out every tea bag in the house, just like she had with every other reminder of their mother. As it is, she has about ten different brands of the damn things because Zelena is the most indecisive woman she’s ever met.

She might just beat Emma when it comes to the most annoying too.

Choosing one at random, she puts the kettle on and sits next to Emma while she waits for it to boil. It doesn’t take long before she notices something is missing and, eyes narrowing, she stares at the side of Emma’s face until Emma turns her head, brow furrowing.

“What?”

Regina bites her lip, gaze darting to Snow who _appears_ to be enthralled with her breakfast. She hums thoughtfully, knowing better, and returns her attention to Emma. “Enjoying your pancakes?”

Emma doesn’t answer. Instead she cuts a piece and offers her the fork with a smirk. Regina mirrors the expression and leans in, deliberately slow as she takes the fork into her mouth. She savours the sight of the smirk dissolving and the darkening gaze of green eyes before she leans back, chewing slowly, delighted when she licks her lips and Emma follows her tongue with rapt attention.

“Delicious, just as I suspected.” Her voice is enough to clear the lustful haze and bring Emma back to the present. “Performance anxiety, dear?” She teases with a grin. “Adorable.”

Emma’s cheeks redden. “Shut up.”

A sigh that neither give remind them of the third presence but before either can give it the response Regina believes it rightly deserves, Snow speaks up. “I can’t believe I was naive enough not to see this coming.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have done something awful. Brace yourselves.

Relief.

Once Emma is passed the surprise, that’s what she sees in her mother’s eyes. There’s no judgment or anger- no betrayal. She just confessed to not being entirely 100% straight, and wanting to sleep with a woman who has been an enemy to their family for generations, and her mother is _relieved_.

Forcing herself to look away, she finds Regina but unlike her, Regina is looking at her rather than Snow and what starts as a minute quirk of the mouth blossoms into a full-blown smirk.

She gets it. Regina doesn’t need to say it.

“I could have told her.”

“I know,” she concedes, struggling not to grin.

“She didn’t know.”

Emma nods. “You’re intelligent, it’s only natural for you to know things the rest of us don’t.” If possible, the smirk widens further. “I won’t stop you.”

Accepting or not, Snow _did_ wake them up; the least she deserves is a little venom. Truthfully, she’s surprised Regina had bothered to wait this long.

“You’re very kind- remind me to reward you later.” Noting the flash of mischief in her eyes as Regina turns to Snow, Emma shakes her head with a smile. “Snow,” Regina drawls, “the sheer magnitude of your naivety is eclipsed only by your infuriating desire to know everything and surprises absolutely _no one_ but you.”

Ignoring her mother’s reaction entirely, Emma chews on her lower lip, considering, before she says, “8 out of 10.” Regina jerks around, her outraged expression priceless. “I did just say you were the smartest person alive; too many complicated words.”

“You didn’t say that,”

“It was implied,” she counters as she stands up and takes her plate to the sink.

“I’ve changed my mind; you don’t deserve a reward.”

“Wow, I compliment you multiple times and I don’t get anything for it?” Plate washed, Emma places it in the dish rack before she turns around and makes her way towards her mother. “Guess I won’t bother anymore.” She kisses Snow’s cheek, then straightens in time for the frown Regina levels at her. “What?”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Bed,” she answers, the same _duh_ in her tone that Henry had voiced earlier. She starts to leave before she hears a sound; almost like a whine but not quite. She looks back over a shoulder. “Yes?”

“What about…” Regina trails off but she gestures to Snow frantically.

Glancing between them, Emma settles on Snow. “You good, mom?” Snow inclines her head and Emma shrugs. “You’ll be fine. See you at lunch.”

 

* * *

 

Glare pinned to Emma’s back until she’s no longer in sight and Regina has no choice but to let her go, she directs her attention back to Snow. “I hope you’ve cherished these past four years because I’m going to murder her.”

Snow smiles at her with a knowing look but humours her all the same. “We’ve had our moments,” she says. “As long as she doesn’t suffer too much.”

Regina scoffs, eyes drifting towards the foyer as she murmurs, “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

“I said _too_ _much_.” Only partially listening, she snorts and allows silence to stretch between them before Snow breaks it with a sigh. “You can go after her, you know.”

Eyes snapping back to her, Regina cocks a brow. “And leave you alone in my house?”

“I was going to suggest I join Henry until it’s time for school, then take him with me.” Her own eyes rolling, Snow adds, “Besides, was it not implied she can’t sleep without you, or did she make that up to throw me from the truth?”

Confused, Regina frowns at her. If not that, then what exactly might they be doing that would be worse than the truth? Head shaking, she stands. “Fine, but if you’re still here-”

“I have to work,” Snow interrupts the intended threat and Regina huffs as she’s waved off. “If you want to be moody with someone, my daughter is upstairs… in your bed.”

“Our bed,” she corrects before she’s fully processed the words. She blinks. “The ease with which you’ve accepted this is rather quite disturbing.”

Snow shrugs. “I want nothing but happiness for my daughter, even if it just so happens to be with a homicidal maniac who was almost her stepgra-”

Regina growls lowly. “I will destroy you if you finish that sentence.”

“Like I haven’t heard that before.”

“Much like your naivety,” Regina replies, raising a hand, “the frequency of people threatening to kill you is also unsurprising.”

Flicking her wrist, she disappears before Snow can think of a response, and appears beside the bed where Emma reclines, head propped up by an arm. “Finally,” she groans and rolls onto her back.

“You have the next 24 hours to bond with your mother before I kill her.”

“Oh?” Grinning up at her, the little shit, Emma says, “I missed the part where we switched places, did I?”

Unsurprised she had heard her earlier, (they’ve all been known to eavesdrop from time to time) Regina screws up her face in disgust. “Gods no,” she says, quickly throwing off her robe and crawling onto the bed. “The idea that I was cuddling your mother before this repulses me on a level far greater than you can imagine.”

“Ah.” Emma rolls towards her and drapes an arm across her hip. “So you admit, you never intended to kill me.”

“Hardly. I intend- it’s actually fairly alarming how often,” Regina murmurs, shifting until they’re as close as humanly possible without merging, and entwining their legs. “Unfortunately, I have a terrible knack for talking myself out of it.”

Feigning sympathetic, Emma sticks out her lower lip, teasing, “That sounds awful.”

“I assure you, it is.”

Nodding, she brings their foreheads together, noses brushing. “Maybe I should be the one rewarding you for being so strong.”

Body warming, Regina breathes, “What a wonderful idea,” before Emma closes what little space remains between them and captures her mouth in a hot, hungry kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, redeeming Snow is what I was referring to.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, I've officially lost control of this story.

When Emma next wakes, it’s because Regina is talking and the deep, smooth tone of her voice is by far more appealing, to both her conscious and subconscious, than sleep itself. She doesn’t register much in the first few minutes beyond the fingers playing with her hair but the soft, husky chuckle that eventually fills the surrounding air is far more effective at perking her up than the copious amounts of caffeine it generally takes.

“I’m sure she’ll be very grateful, David.” Raising her head, she blinks slowly and Regina smiles down at her, affection in her eyes as those same fingers slip from Emma’s hair to her cheek, stroking. “She’ll be far less grateful about that... oh, I will most definitely be telling her.”

The sound of her father’s laughter on the other end of the phone is loud enough for Emma to hear. She rises on her hands and knees, suspicious, squinting at the phone in Regina’s hand. Her brow furrows upon realization that it’s _her_ phone Regina is talking to her father on.

“She’s awake now.” Regina smirks at something he says, then drawls, “Entertaining as this has been... considering who you married, is it really any wonder I’d prefer talking to her?”

Another, softer chuckle has Emma melting back down onto the body beneath her. Why Regina is using her phone rather than her own really isn’t all that important. They do share a wardrobe after all, not to mention a bed... the occasional shirt and, oh right, a _son_.

In the overall scheme of things, a phone is far too insignificant to be getting all worked up over.

“Your father says good morning.” She grunts, much more interested in the warm, supple flesh under her cheek as she rubs against it. “He’s offered to take your shift this afternoon.” She purrs, barely listening and drawing another chuckle before those fingers return to her hair. “Did you turn into a cat while I wasn’t looking?”

Grinning, she tips her head back. “I wish.” A brow arches in question and she explains, “If I were a cat, my entire body would fit on your chest.”

Regina hums thoughtfully and scratches at her scalp, sending a shiver down her spine. “I can think of far more enjoyable things you could be doing with my chest.”

Chin dipping forward until her eyes are level with the very prominent mound of tempting flesh so close to her mouth, Emma strangles a low, pathetic whine. She has wondered- thought about- fantasized; how it would feel to run her lips along the skin, then her tongue. Maybe Regina would like teeth too- she seems to like the occasional nibble when they kiss.

“Me too.”

The chest in question shakes with quiet laughter.

 

* * *

 

If Emma were any more adorable, Regina would have to kill on her principle. It’s bad enough when Emma is wide awake and completely alert. When she’s like this, voice raspy from sleep while spouting such sweet, arousing things- well. It’s entirely unfair, is what it is.

“Careful, dear,” she warns, stroking the back of her head and down toward the nape of her neck. “I’m trying to be good.”

She’d been so close to giving in and rolling Emma over onto her back when David had called and distracted her from her less than innocent thoughts at the time. They hadn’t fallen asleep in their current positions and on waking, pinned to the bed as she is, the arousal had hit her hard and fast. Their kiss last night had certainly contributed to her state, providing her with a rather vivid dream she wouldn’t mind reenacting, repeatedly if possible.

“Good’s boring.”

Smirking, she inches the tips of her fingers beneath Emma’s tank and scratches her between the shoulders, agreeing, “Indeed.”

In what she assumes is retaliation for the goosebumps dotting the skin under her hand, she feels the whisper of lips against the top of her breast, and her breath hitches.

“Emma…” She tries to make it sound like a warning but if she’s delusional enough to believe she succeeds, the nip of teeth soon dissuade her of the notion and a stuttered moan passes her lips.

Shifting her head back, Emma peers up at her with a shit-eating grin. Regina groans before clasping the back of her neck and tugging. Emma eagerly obeys the unspoken command as she rises to claim her mouth, sinking into her in the next second with a groan of her own.

This is what Regina had hoped for that first week, what she imagined the two of them doing when Emma accepted what she’d done- once Emma understood the connection that has grown between them. The few kisses they’ve shared since the first have meant everything to her, but _this_ is what she’s longed for ever since.

It ends sooner than she expects- sooner than she’d _like_ but when Emma latches onto her neck, she can’t find it in herself to complain. Emma’s tongue in her mouth is arousing but on her skin it is _divine_ , rolling against her pulse before sucking it into a warm, wet mouth as the rumble of twin moans vibrate deep within her throat.

When a hand brushes against her knee and the fingers tease the hem of her negligee, what little restraint she might have gained with a little more time vanishes and then she’s doing what she’s wanted to do all along. She surges up from the bed and rolls them, forcing Emma’s mouth from her as her head hits the pillow

“I warned you,” she growls.

Eyes dark, Emma licks her lips and says, “You did.”

Desire gathering in the pit of her stomach, Regina bows her head and threatens the tongue with a snap of her teeth, chuckling when it quickly retreats. She purrs, “Now you’re in trouble.”

After a quiet moment of thought, Emma lifts her head with a grin, breath warm against her mouth as she utters a single, damning word.

“Good.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodbye T rating, hello filth.

Emma’s mouth falls open. As soon as she said it, Regina had smirked and, faster than even she can believe despite the fact she’d  _ just _ watched her do it, Regina had ripped off her negligee and thrown it somewhere off to the side.

A finger slides beneath her chin and presses up, closing her mouth before Regina bends forward, a hand on either side of her head as she purrs, “Don’t tell me you’re all talk, Miss Swan.”

Heat gathers between her thighs and her throat threatens to close up as her mouth dries. She wasn’t joking, but neither did she think Regina would give in so quickly. Regina likes to tease her, and Emma was expecting nothing less than absolute torture but if this is the way Regina wants to go, then she is more than willing to play along.

She raises a hand, hesitates barely a second, then threads her fingers through brunette hair and drags Regina down to her mouth. She stiffens the moment she feels the full weight of Regina’s breasts against hers, their warmth seeping through her tank as if to taunt her for not paying them the attention they deserve.

Deciding to correct her oversight as quickly as possible, she wraps an arm around Regina’s waist and rolls them. She feels more than she hears the protest against her lips but with the swipe of her tongue, Regina is successfully distracted, sucking it into her mouth as Emma extracts her arm and begins running a hand along her side.

With every pass of her fingers over ribs, Regina twitches but on every draw back down to a hip, she seems to melt deeper and deeper into the mattress beneath them. Realizing she couldn’t possibly be any more relaxed than she is, Emma finds her confidence and on the next upward caress, she dares to go higher, groaning into the kiss as the skin beneath her hand grows warmer.

Regina arches, thrusting against her palm when she squeezes. Emma grins and breaks the kiss to stare down at her but the grin soon falls, giving way to a slack jaw when she feels the fingers dig into her backside and Regina presses them flush.

Regina smirks up at her knowingly. “Why don’t you set aside whatever asinine thought you just had that made you interrupt our fun,” she purrs, “and take off your clothes for me, hmm?”

 

* * *

 

Heat blossoms throughout her body. Where Regina expects a reprimand for her impatience or feigned offense for her smart mouth, she gets her wish instead. Never has she seen someone move as fast as Emma does to comply with the suggestion, and never has she ever been more turned on than when the shirt and panties fly across the room.

“Oh my-” She chuckles throatily and welcomes Emma back on top of her with open arms. “-someone’s eager.”

“You have  _ no _ idea.” 

As she leans in, Regina tips her head back to provide Emma the room she needs to leave a chain of kisses and bite marks along her throat. She hums, clutching at Emma’s back as arousal threatens to burn her from the inside out.

Since her last suggestion went so well and she is in no mood to take her time, she decides to try another. “Why don’t we leave the slow torture for another time?” Releasing her collarbone with a slick pop, Emma lifts her head and Regina meets her stare with a raised brow as she questions, “Or do I need to confess that I have been sitting here for almost two hours while you wasted away our morning, thinking about all the terribly wonderful things I wanted to do to your body to wake you before you’ll grant me the mercy I seek?”

Emma eyes her a moment before a slow grin spreads across her face. “Two hours, huh?” Regina inclines her head, biting her lip as the grin broadens. “You must be about ready to explode.”

Nostrils flaring, she repeats Emma’s earlier phrase back to her and admits, “ _ You _ have no idea.”

“Hmm.” Emma dips down for a slow, drawn out kiss that almost convinces Regina the only way they’re going to get anywhere is if she takes back control, but then Emma relents, humming as she pulls back. “We’re going to have to remove-” She grinds down with her hips, causing Regina’s panties to pull taut against her skin. “-those.”

Breath caught in her chest, she quickly flicks her wrist. Emma inhales sharply, eyes narrowing- darkening. She dips down again, only this time the kiss is far from slow. It’s quick, veering from her mouth almost immediately to sear a trail of kisses down to her breasts.

Nipples already hard, Regina clenches a sheet in one hand and draws nails down Emma’s back with the other as heat encloses one breast and fingers tease another, pinching and pulling, coaxing the nipple into a finer, more stiff point of aching pain.

Rocking forward in search of something to ease the pressure between her legs, she moans upon finding Emma’s thigh. She shamelessly rubs herself against it before Emma pushes it against her more firmly and another, much louder moan falls from her lips.

“Impatient,” Emma murmurs as she releases her breasts and kisses down her stomach. Regina mourns the loss of her leg, stifling a disappointed groan only to gasp as Emma nibbles her hip. “You’ll be coming before you’re even in my mouth.”

Stomach clenching, the words shooting straight to her clit, Regina takes a minute to gather her bearings and breath before she replies, “Then you best do something about it.”

Emma chuckles. “Already-” Regina jerks, gaze snapping down. “-on it,” Emma finishes with a wink, and then it’s all slick, wet heat at the mercy of a hot, wet tongue and warm, soft lips, eyes closing as the air fills with a combined cacophony of appreciation and pleasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It doesn't end here, it was just taking too long and since it's Christmas tomorrow for me, it was going to take even longer. I will continue this in the next chapter.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised; here's the rest of your porn.
> 
> Merry Christmas, derps.

Emma doesn’t mean to tease her. She has every intention of letting Regina come, but then Regina is in her mouth and the temptation is far too overwhelming to resist. She had no idea Regina would taste so good, and now that she knows, all she wants is every last, possible drop. Regina is sweet but with an underlying hint of spice and the flavour combined with the scent is more intoxicating than Emma has dreamed.

She doesn’t mean to tease, but with Regina’s hand gripping the back of her head and the legs wrapped around her shoulders, she realizes that is all she’s been doing and Regina has had enough. Regina has taken control and refuses to let her move an inch, to dip back down and coax more of that delicious heat from the source, so Emma concedes.

Swirling her tongue around a straining bundle of nerves, she sucks it into her mouth and almost loses her mind when Regina sobs. Even muffled by thighs much stronger than she would’ve thought they’d be, the sob is quite clearly her name and said in a tone that sends a jolt of liquid fire straight between her legs.

Unwinding an arm from around a thigh, she slides a hand beneath it and swiftly enters Regina, two fingers deep and relishing the muted cry that might have pierced her ears were they not safely ensconced within the heated embrace of silky smooth, olive-toned skin.

Nails claw at the back of her head as Regina bucks against her mouth and Emma curls her fingers, drawing another, more guttural sob when she finds the rough patch of flesh she was looking for. She rubs against it and moans every time she feels Regina clench, muscles squeezing her tight as more and more heat spills down her fingers and into the palm of her hand.

Releasing Regina’s clit, she rolls her tongue over it, then grazes with teeth and all of a sudden the thighs feel as though a vice is closing in around her head, squeezing harder and harder as Regina arches her back with what she assumes is a moan but could just as easily be a roar for all she can hear.

They loosen slowly but surely along with the hand in her hair and she comes up swiftly, sucking in a much needed breath and making herself dizzy in the process.

Minutes pass before Regina opens her eyes and a small, apologetic smile crosses her face. “Sorry.”

Blinking, Emma shakes her head and regrets it immediately. She won’t be able to do it often if she wants to continue _living_ , but it was definitely nothing Regina needed to apologize for. “Don’t be,” she assures, pressing her cheek to a thigh. “-that was awesome.”

 

* * *

 

 

Cheeks warming with the same affection that fills her chest, Regina chuckles as she reaches down and caresses Emma’s jaw. She’d never been one who particularly enjoyed oral (probably because none of her former lovers knew what they were doing) but when she’d felt that talented little tongue going to town, she lost all semblance of control and did everything her body wanted her to.

Extracting her fingers, Emma rises on hands and knees and crawls on top of her. “That’s definitely the way I want to go,” she murmurs before her lips find a home in the crook of Regina’s neck.

Regina slides the hand back into her hair and scratches her scalp, knowing how much Emma likes it when she does, and relishing the soft vibration of a hum against her skin. “While I am certainly open to the idea,” she admits, “you won’t be going anywhere for a very long time; is that clear?”

“Yes ma’am,” Emma mumbles into her neck.

“Good girl.”

“Okay,” she drawls, lifting her head. She narrows her eyes and says, “Unless you’re ready to come again, don’t say things like that.”

Grinning, Regina frees the hand from her hair and slides it down her back, stroking her spine before palming the cheek of her ass. She squeezes, voice chiding when she replies, “It’s your turn.”

“I know,” Emma counters, the _duh_ clear in her tone. “Why do you think I said it?” She jerks a moment later, lids fluttering as a moan pulls from her throat. “Oh.”

Playing through her wetness, Regina watches the pleasure wash over her as her own wetness slickens her thighs. Emma is positively gorgeous.  “You like that?”

Emma spreads her legs to give her more room, a nonsensical sound escaping her mouth as Regina enters her from behind. She groans, then breathes, “That’s an idiotic question.”

“I like to tailor them to the person I’m asking,” Regina teases.

“If I wasn’t enjoying this so much, I’d be offended right now.”

Hearing the tremble in her voice, Regina decides they’ve talked long enough and focuses her attention on bringing Emma pleasure. Slipping her free hand between them in search of Emma’s clit, she delights in the soft, warm gasp against her mouth, and moans when Emma kisses her.

It’s sloppy and lacking anything even remotely resembling direction but the pure excitement coming off of Emma is all the encouragement Regina needs as she rubs rough, tight circles around the little nub and kisses her back- likely just as sloppy in her enthusiasm, and not caring in the slightest.

When Emma comes, it’s quiet but with a shudder so intense and a surge of heat so wet that it’s impossible for Regina to mistake it as anything else. Had she not come close to snapping Emma’s neck with the strength of her own orgasm, she might compare the high she gets from knowing she was the one to reduce Emma to the limp noodle she becomes on top of her, to the high she got with Emma’s skilled tongue burrowing deep inside of her.

“Wow,” Emma declares after minutes of trying to regain her breath.

Regina laughs softly. “Indeed,” she agrees, still a little breathless herself. “We will certainly be doing that again... repeatedly.”

“God yes.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think at this point I'm passed apologizing for delays. I know I'm easily distracted, you all know I'm extremely lazy, we all know the muse is a bitch etc etc

Regina, as it turns out, wasn’t kidding in the slightest. When she said they’d be having sex repeatedly, she meant it. More than once Emma has been innocently minding her own business and not a minute later, she’ll be thrown up against the nearest wall, or draped across the flattest surface with Regina’s mouth attached to some part of her body.

Unfortunately, it’s during one of these moments that her father decides it’s been too many days since they last bonded and barges into her office. Fortunately for her, and for him, there’s a lot less of her on display this time than there is Regina.

Also unfortunately- definitely for _him_ , Regina does _not_ like to be interrupted during sex and after the incident with Snow, Emma can’t quite blame her for losing it the way she does when her hand shoots out and he’s almost violently shoved back before the door slams in his face.

Emma grins at her. Given the blush she wears, it’s obvious the choice was an unconscious one but Regina might think there’s something wrong with her if Emma doesn’t at least tease her a _little_ for it. “You gonna tell me to keep going with him waiting out there?”

The blush deepens before Regina places a hand on her chest, and freezes. Emma grins wider. If Regina didn’t like her jacket so much and hadn’t demanded she put it back on, David would’ve gotten to see a hell of a lot more than any father should see of their child.

Leaning in, she slides her lips along Regina’s jaw and nips at her earlobe. “Parental unit invasion imminent, Re-gi-na,” she reminds, tone still teasing. The hand squeezes and she gasp-chuckles before pulling back, eyes sweeping down Regina’s _almost_ naked form. She sighs. “If only people learned how to knock.”

Regina snorts before rolling her eyes and pushing from the wall. “To be continued, Sheriff.” She snaps her fingers, fully dressed in less than a blink. Emma pouts but sobers at the look she’s then given and Regina’s next words. “I think your father has seen _quite_ enough.”

“Right,” she agrees, clearing her throat. She should probably be at least a little annoyed about that. “Wanna wipe his memory?”

“Don’t try to cheer me up.” Running a hand through her hair, Regina glances towards the door, then back to Emma, and huffs. “And do put some clothes on.”

“I have some clothes on.” Emma wags her eyebrows. Granted, it’s just her panties and jacket but it’s not like she woke up this morning and decided that’s what she’d wear to work today. “If you taketh, you must giveth back.”

With another snap, her shirt and jeans reappear on her body. “You’re an idiot.” Regina doesn’t even give her the courtesy of letting her pretend to be offended before she wraps a hand around the back of her neck and tugs her into a kiss that leaves her reeling and breathless. “Have fun explaining this to your father, dear.”

 

* * *

 

She almost escapes. Almost.

At the last possible second, she feels the hand on her hip, and sighs, sinking back into the warmth that immediately presses into her back as Emma wraps around her from behind. She murmurs, “I thought the first time we had sex, you were finally done torturing me.”

“You could have ravished me at any time throughout the years,” Emma counters, nuzzling her cheek. “Don’t blame me because you’re a chicken.”

She tenses, thoroughly offended, but when lips tease the sensitive spot behind her ear, she deflates, resigned as her eyes flutter shut and she hums. She knew getting involved with Emma Swan would expose her weaknesses to be used against her.

Successfully, and often.

“Brat.”

“Yours,” Emma retorts, snickering softly.

Regina shivers as soft lips brush against her skin. She waits for Emma to pull away, expecting it, but all waiting gets her is the softest of kisses on that spot, and she sighs. Much as she’d enjoy encouraging the continuation of her attention, they do have a certain, more annoying blonde idiot to attend to. “Emma.”

“Hmm?”

Tempted to turn around, shove her back, and bend her over her desk, Regina swallows thickly and waits for the thought to pass instead. “Your father…”

Emma sits her chin on a shoulder. “I’m surprised he hasn’t tried to barge back in already.”

“Perhaps he doesn’t wish to be scarred further.”

“Please.” She scoffs, then says, “When they called my mother the fairest in the land, they were talking about her pasty, white ass; you’re sinfully attractive, and he should be so lucky.”

Regina shakes with silent laughter. Emma certainly has a way with words. “What did I say about cheering me up?”

“Do it,” Emma lies with zero hesitation. “Always, and in the crudest fashion imaginable.”

Resisting the urge to grin, Regina says, “None of that sounds like something I would say… ever.”

“You’re right.” Coughing, Emma tries again. “Oh Emma, should I ever be feeling down, do be an idiot and make me smile and/or laugh as much as possible.”

Knowing she’s about to give in and do exactly what Emma wants, Regina waves a hand, throwing open the door of the office and lurching away from Emma’s arms, out into the main room. “David, please save me from your imbecile daughter.”

He stares at the two of them, mouth open and closing, face like a tomato. “Um.”

“Or continue standing there turning red and gaping like an idiot,” she drawls before noting movement from the corner of her eye and turning, brow rising at the sight of his wife trying to hold in laughter of her own.

“I warned him not to go in there,” Snow says. “There’s only one reason Emma would be in her office during her lunch break.”

Bemused, Regina glances back at Emma to see if she’ll even attempt to refute the point. Emma shrugs, head shaking. “Yeah, no, I’m not even going to try and protest that one.”

“Smart,” Regina replies playfully before receiving one of those dopey, lopsided smiles she used to loath oh so much.

“Thanks.”

Snow interrupts their silent grinning to one another to inform them, “You two can actually go to lunch.” When they turn to her, she gestures to David. “He knew about you both before he barged in; there’s no need to wait for him to process it all.”

Peering back at him, Regina reaches for Emma’s hand, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth if she can help it. Knowing David, it could be hours before he learns how to string two words together again. Right now, it looks as though he might faint should he try.

“Come along, dear, I’m sure we can find something to eat at home.” Emma snorts as if to say _yeah, right, eating_ but she entwines their fingers. It delights Regina; to be known so well. She preens inwardly, already thinking of ways to ensure Emma is 100% correct in what she assumes is going to happen once they reach the house as she leads her from the station, a, “Enjoy dealing with that,” tossed over the shoulder for Snow’s sake.

She can’t help but finally laugh when she hears Snow’s chirpy, “You too!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's Henry, Red, Snow and David; who am I missing?


	17. Chapter 17

“Emma.”

Turning from the stove upon hearing the sleepy voice, she grins. There is nothing more adorable than Regina in the morning, hair tousled, make-up free, and wearing a pout that would put all other pouts to shame. “Yes?”

“Why are you down here and not upstairs, warming our bed?”

“I wanted to make you breakfast,” she states, matter of fact, and the pout deepens.

“I have priorities of my own, you know.”

Frowning, she turns back around and flips the knob on the stove, shutting off the element before she turns back. She thought she’d been reading the situation clearly, but the low, gravelly tone Regina used then is not one to be ignored. “Oh?”

“Yes.” Tone lightening, Regina smirks and says, “And for future reference; unlike you- for me, food does not rate higher than waking with your mouth between my legs.”

Heat swells in Emma’s stomach. She enjoys the sensations for a bit, then shakes them off. She is slowly becoming accustomed to the many, many ways Regina has of affecting her. “Well-” she drawls, moving closer, “-in future; I’ll be sure to take that into consideration but for the record, I was also hungry.”

Regina cocks a brow, giving her a once over before making a decision and stepping forward, meeting her halfway. Emma wraps around her, smiling as she burrows into her with a content hum. “All the more reason we should still be in bed, yes?”

Emma laughs. “No,” she disagrees despite not really wanting to. She’d be more than happy to wake her in that way every morning if it’s what Regina really wants. “Sadly, you satisfy a lot of my desires but my need for protein isn’t one of them.”

“I could.”

“Yeah?” She laughs again when she feels the nod against her chest. “You gonna magic yourself to be more filling?”

Regina raises her head, eyes narrowing as though she’s considering it before they harden, determination filling them. “If that’s what it takes.”

Emma bites her lip. Only Regina would take her playful suggestion as a challenge. “You really are the horniest, most adorable person I’ve ever met.”

Regina huffs. “I am not.”

“Are too.”

“I’m the Evil Queen,” she protests.

“Even if that were true,” Emma starts, then stops. She leans in and kisses her, savouring the warmth that fills her when Regina responds automatically. She pulls back after a minute or two and continues, “It’s not, but if it were; the two are not mutually exclusive.”

“Yes they are,” Regina replies, voice somewhat hoarse with the stirrings of arousal.

“Nope.”

Henry interrupts any further argument when Emma sees him stumble his way into the kitchen. He rubs his eyes tiredly, yawning his way through his question. “What are you two arguing about now?”

Cheeks pinking, Regina tries to free herself from their embrace. Emma doesn’t let her, tightening the arms around her as she answers him. “Whether or not the Evil Queen can be adorable.”

“No.”

Emma gasps. “Yes.”

“Ma,” he draws it out, like he thinks she might be a bit simple. “She was terrifying.”

“She was sexy.” His face screws up in disgust, though his grin is far too wide for Emma to take him seriously. She challenges, “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong,” he deadpans.

She scoffs. “What do you know? You probably still think girls have cooties.”

“I’m 14 and I have a girlfriend.”

“You both probably have cooties then.”

He sighs, head shaking. “What’s for breakfast?”

Accepting his exasperation as a win, she shrugs. “Whatever you want.”

Looking passed her to the food already waiting for her on the stove, he questions hopefully, “Eggs and bacon?”

She snorts. “Can you cook either?”

Regina’s head snaps up. “Emma.”

“What? Those are for me and you.” Seeing the protest forming a mile off, she adds, “He’s 14, Regina. Chill. Kid,” she says, gesturing to the sink, “rinse out that bowl and grab some eggs, I’m going to teach you how to make your own breakfast.”

“I-”

Will do it. Will help. Will throttle you and make it look like an accident; Emma has no idea what Regina is going to say, and she doesn’t much care either. At his age, their son needs to learn to do some things for himself, whether Regina agrees with her or not.

Silencing her with a kiss, Emma swats her backside before releasing her. “You will sit down-” she says as she moves back to the stove. “-and wait for me to reheat these, then eat your breakfast while I teach him.”

 

* * *

 

Regina doesn’t know what she’s meant to be feeling right now. There’s a lot to process; mentally, emotionally  _ and _ physically. Putting aside the fact her son is currently learning how to scramble eggs, she’s not quite over the idea of going back to bed, especially now that Emma has awakened something in her she wasn’t aware she wanted until this very moment.

Combining her newfound interest in spanking with Emma’s somewhat vaguely commanding tone has a great number of ideas forming in her head, and those are just the physical aspects. None of it comes close to touching on what she’s feeling emotionally as she watches mother and son bond over their love of food. She didn’t even know Emma could cook but her eggs are fluffy and soft to the point of practically melting in the mouth, the bacon crisp and ever so slightly burnt; exactly how she likes it.

She wonders if this is what happiness feels like because if so, she’d been right to covet it for all of this time. The seemingly never ending lust she now feels in Emma’s presence, always, is a small price to pay for everything else.

Finishing what remains on her plate, she quietly slips a hand into her robe and rubs her stomach, the warmth of one need settling, satisfied, while the heat of another grows.

When Emma looks her way, eyes flicking down as a brow rises, she feels herself flush and quickly removes it, standing quickly. “Thank you for breakfast,” she husks, then clears her throat. She glances to their son, who remains happily oblivious as he flips his bacon, and deflates in relief before meeting amused emerald eyes again. She straightens her spine and informs, “I’ll be in the shower.”

The slow bob of a throat transfixes her temporarily before Emma replies, “Good to know.”

Snapping from her trance, she nods quickly and turns on her heel, leaving the kitchen, the knowing chuckle that follows her cut short by the curious voice of their son.

“What’s so funny?”

“Mind your business, and hurry up or you’ll be late for school.”


	18. Chapter 18

When the door closes behind Henry, Emma abandons the dishes in the sink and hurries upstairs. She knew an invitation when she heard one. She can only hope she isn’t too late after their son spent ten minutes searching for a clean pair of socks. She ended up having to tell him to grab a dirty pair that she magicked clean, then berated him for another five minutes for being lazy and not bringing his laundry down to be washed more frequently.

Once she reaches their bedroom and can hear the shower still going, she grins and quickly shoves her pyjama pants down, stepping out of them as she crosses to the ensuite bathroom, tank and panties quick to follow, peeled from her body and leaving a trail from door to door.

Her nipples harden as she enters the bathroom to the sound of a soft moan. She groans her own pleasure at the sight that greets her. If the open door of the shower is any indication, then Regina had been willing to wait for her regardless of how long she’d taken.

Swiftly erasing the distance between them, she gathers Regina in her arms and is welcomed with a throaty chuckle. As Regina presses back against her, Emma peers down over her shoulder to watch the hand play between those thighs, and pouts.

“You started without me.”

“Mmm.” Regina kisses her jaw, then burrows into her neck with a murmured, “You were taking too long.”

Conceding, Emma says, “Well I’m here now.” She strokes down Regina’s stomach and pushes her hand aside. “My hand thanks yours, but it’s services are no longer required.”

She cups her sex and Regina groans into her neck. “If you’re going to be an idiot, I’ll have to insist you replace it with your mouth instead.”

Emma snorts. “So He-man and She-ra can crush my head? I don’t think so.” Regina’s laughter vibrates through her and she bites her lip, skin prickling and stomach warming. God she loves that sound. “You should be moaning and calling my name, not laughing at me.”

“Give me a reason to do either and-” Obedient and willing, Emma enters her with two fingers and gets the moan she’s looking for, as well as teeth near the base of her throat for daring. Regina nibbles her neck as she reaches down and covers her hand with her own before chiding playfully, “Naughty.”

“You love it.”

She hums, then slides her other hand up and around to the back of Emma’s neck, threading fingers in her hair and tugging gently. Emma turns and kisses her, pulling forth another moan as she sweeps into Regina’s mouth and palms her breast, kneading flesh and enjoying the way the nipple puckers as it presses stiffly into her hand.

Knowing they need to be semi-quick if either of them wants to arrive at work on time, she decides not to go slow like she wants and it isn’t long before Regina is gasping into her mouth and grinding down on her hand, walls clenching around her fingers tellingly.

Emma savours every sound she manages to coax from those lips and every second she’s inside wet, clinging heat. Feeling Regina nearing the end, she tilts her arm just right and moans as a slick, hard nub rubs against her wrist.

Name hummed in warning into her mouth, she smiles into their kiss before breaking it. “I know,” she murmurs, brushing their lips together. “Come for me, my Queen.”

 

* * *

 

“Madam Mayor?”

Shaking the memory of this morning from her mind, Regina looks up at the voice to find everyone is staring at her. Gaze flicking to a certain pair of amused, green eyes, she scowls briefly before turning her attention back to the room in general, and stands.

“Apologies everyone.” She has no idea what she’s apologizing for, but she knows she’s missed something crucial during her daydream. Unsurprisingly, she can’t quite find the energy to care as she says, “I need to postpone this meeting, as I am feeling unwell. We will resume this on Friday, until then-”

“But-”

“ _Until then_ ,” she continues, glaring at the man who dared interrupt her. “Anyone with business they feel they cannot wait _two whole days_ to discuss should speak with Isabella. I’m sure she’ll do her best to find a time for me to speak with you. Dismissed.”

From the corner of her eye, she can see Emma sneaking out ahead of everyone else. She watches but doesn’t try to stop her, not quite trusting she would be able to control herself and _not_ order Emma naked and onto the table before everyone manages to escape the room. As the door closes behind the last person, she lets out a breath and drops back into her seat. She wonders if she can enforce some sort of rule about morning sex on work days, then snorts at herself; she would more than likely break such a rule long before Emma even attempted to.

When she’s regained some semblance of control and returns to her office, it’s to find Emma sprawled out on her couch, and David perched on the edge of her desk. “That is not a chair, Charming.”

He immediately jumps up, flushing pink. “Sorry.” He grins and gestures between them. “I’ll just be… going.”

“Good,” she grumbles, walking passed him. She glares down at Emma’s legs until she moves them, then sinks down into the cushion beside her. When he’s gone and she finally looks at Emma’s face, her desire to be petulant for a time evaporates quickly. “What’s wrong?”

Emma blinks, confusion contorting her expression. “Huh?”

It’s an improvement, but not by much. “Your face,” Regina huffs. “It’s doing that… thing.”

“My face is doing that thing,” Emma repeats as she pushes herself up. She chuckles, nudging her before she leans in and kisses her cheek. “Whatever thing you’re talking about, it was entirely unintentional.”

Eying her disbelievingly, Regina decides not to push. “Fine.” She sniffs. “What did your imbecile father want?” Emma does the _thing_ again and tries to pull away but Regina is quick. She grabs her by the chin, eyes narrowing. “This. That face. What is it?”

Emma rolls her eyes, a small smile curling her mouth. “It’s called disgust, Regina,” she drawls. “I thought you’d be familiar.”

Regina frowns. “Disgust?”

Nodding, Emma gently captures her wrist and pries the hand from her chin. “Dad was just telling me how happy he is that we’re together.”

Her frown deepening, Regina prompts, “And that disgusts you?”

Head shaking, Emma grins before she kisses her again, though this time it’s on the mouth. Regina closes her eyes and sighs into it, lids fluttering when it ends. “What disgusts me,” Emma explains, “is finding out Hook asked my father for his blessing.”

Feeling her own disgust bubble up inside of her, it must show because Emma’s smile grows tenfold and she nods.

“Exactly,” she says. “Apparently we got our shit together in the nick of time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am genuinely ashamed of myself for the lack of porn, but more especially for that sentence.


	19. Chapter 19

“Mine.”

Murmured into her neck and causing her to shiver, Emma chuckles happily as she strokes the length of a warm, soft back . She has to remember to thank her father the next time she sees him, and maybe find something they both enjoy so they can do some of that bonding he’s always on at her about. If not for him, she’d be napping right now- not that that would have been a bad thing but compared to what Regina had just done to her, she definitely isn’t complaining.

She knew Regina was possessive but she’s going to be feeling just  _ how _ possessive for the next week or so while her body heals all the places Regina found with teeth and nails, almost every inch of her marked in some way or another, pleasant aches and mildly uncomfortable stinging making themselves known all over.

“I can’t believe I ended a meeting for this,” Regina groans before burrowing deeper into her neck. Sighing, exaggerating, she adds, “You are a terrible influence on me, Emma Swan.”

Smirking, Emma runs both hands down her back and palms the cheeks of her ass, squeezing as she confesses, “I’m okay with that.”

Regina hums, nuzzling her jaw before she lifts her head and smiles. “Me too,” she purrs, dipping down and capturing Emma’s mouth in a sweet, languid kiss. Emma whines the second it ends but Regina merely pats her cheek fondly and says, “Alas, our work will not complete itself.”

When she tries to sit up, to remove her wonderful weight, Emma grips her ass more firmly and presses up with the thigh between her legs. Regina’s head drops to her collarbone as she groans, teeth sinking into it the moment the pleasured sound ends and she begins rolling her hips.

Emma’s smirk returns and she kisses the top of her head. “Mine,” she mimics the claim, gripping her ass tight and picking up the rhythm Regina has set as she helps her along, enjoying the sensation of slick heat coating her thigh.

It doesn’t take much. It never does and the fact Regina recovers quickly, capable of more without a rest in between, means Emma doesn’t have to stop. She rarely does and this time is no exception as she slips a hand between them in search of her favourite little bundle, and encourages Regina into a second before she’s finished with the first.

Regina gasp-moans, sharp then deep enough to penetrate through Emma’s skin. The sound travels swiftly down to her sex which throbs, sympathetic and hungry in equal measure, only growing worse when Regina mumbles, “Gods, Emma, don’t stop.”

Why, Emma wants to ask, would she do something stupid like that, but then there is a thigh positioning itself beneath her own and somehow Regina is up and rubbing against her, and she’s moaning, speech no longer a thought let alone an ability she possesses.

Regina grins down at her knowingly. She curls a hand behind Emma’s knee and raises her leg, fingers skimming the length of her calf before gripping her shin. As she forces the leg against her shoulder, she grinds down, her grin faltering as pleasure replaces the look and she picks up speed, moaning loud.

Too loud, it would seem.

There’s a knock at the door and the timid voice of Regina’s secretary filters through, asking if the Mayor is alright. Emma stifles a laugh as pleasure turns to outrage. She’s only mildly surprised when Regina forgoes an answer and flicks her wrist instead, transporting them home, onto their bed where she grinds, rubs and moans until they’re both coming, and coming hard.

 

* * *

 

The laughter comes the moment they each recover their breath. It starts as a low, husky chuckle that warms her cheek, and then Regina is joining in because Emma’s laughter is infectious and because, she assumes, like Emma, she can’t quite believe what she’d just done. She was merely teasing before but after that, there might actually be something to the whole bad influence thing she accused Emma of being.

Breathing in deeply, the scent of sex and sweat in her nose, she hums and says, “Irresponsibility is nothing to laugh about, Sheriff.”

“I beg to differ,” Emma argues, still laughing.

Regina rolls from on top of her, mock glaring at her. She intends to get up, to dress, to go back to work and perhaps apologize to her secretary for whatever scars the woman is creating for herself imagining all the possibilities of what might have been going on behind the office door. That’s what she intends, but as she is beginning to learn; her intentions matter little to one Emma Swan, who follows, reversing their positions before she forces herself to get up, pinning her to the bed.

“Get off.”

Emma smirks. “Just did.” She bows her head, kissing her before Regina can respond.

Rolling her eyes, Regina threads a hand through her hair and kisses her back, willingly giving herself over to the feel of warm, supple lips. Everything about Emma is special, but the way she kisses is something else- something more, more than lips, tongue or teeth.

Under normal circumstances, she would despise anyone who claimed the kiss of their partner could make them  _ feel _ their partner’s emotions, and yet Emma seems entirely capable of pouring love into her with a simple meeting of lips. She feels it with every stroke, every nip and suck, and it is thoroughly intoxicating- detrimentally so.

In an ordinary world, they both would have lost their jobs at this point.

“Emma,” she murmurs, forcing them apart as she grabs her chin, one hand pushing while the other tugs gently. “We cannot spend…”

She trails off because- because they  _ could _ and Emma is looking at her like she’d just kicked her damn puppy. It’s cute and pathetic and… and slowly transforming into a playful grin.

“Ass.”

Emma laughs abruptly, though not unexpectedly. “I fucking love how easy it would be to convince you to stay here with me for as long as I want,” she says, dipping down once more, the kiss brief but no less loving than any other. “I love you.”

Regina blinks, brow furrowing, wondering. She thinks this might be the first time Emma has actually admitted it, and frowns. Emma gazes curiously down on her. “What?”

Head shaking, she reestablishes her grip on Emma’s hair and replies, “I love you too,” before guiding her back down to her mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seemed to be favoured last time but just in case; how do you all feel about random plot being introduced to this story? I have an idea that'll work here and save me from starting yet another fic I'll probably get bored of before finishing.


	20. Chapter 20

Emma doesn’t realize until later the huge step she’d just taken. She’s patrolling when it occurs to her, Regina finally having convinced her to return to work for the last couple of hours left in the day. She told someone she loves them. There was nothing forcing her to, nothing to make her think her life or Regina’s would soon come to an end. Nothing to suggest she might regret not saying it today instead of tomorrow, or the day after, or a month from now.

It felt right. Effortless. Necessary, but not urgent.

It might seem like something small to anyone else, but for Emma it is monumental in this thing called life. She has friends, parents, a home. She has a son she shares with the woman of her dreams, a son who is most likely the only person she has ever told she loves without some form of emergency hanging over their heads. 

Declarations of love don’t come easy for her, but an hour ago while laying in bed with the smartest, most sarcastic, sexiest woman she knows, it was the easiest thing she’d ever done.

“Well. Fuck.”

And that about sums up her feelings on the matter.

All those months she spent with Hook who insisted he needed to tear down her walls. She was literally on the verge of sacrificing her soul  _ for Regina _ before she gave Hook what he wanted. She hadn’t even been sure she meant the words, and then she’d gone and let Regina just waltz right on through those walls while keeping them, mostly, intact.

She really is in love.

“Ugh.”

She’d hoped after Neal, life would skip torturing her with  _ that _ again. She could adore Regina, lust after her and want to spend the rest of her life annoying the shit out of her, without it needing to be  _ love _ . Right?

Mouth twisting with her grin, she bites down on her lip and shakes her head. No, she supposes not. If absolute adoration and almost crippling lust weren’t giveaways, then wanting to spend the rest of her life with Regina certainly fits the bill. She’s in love, and there’s fuck all she can do about it.

Fuck all she  _ wants _ to do about it, come to think of it.

Deciding an hour is long enough to fulfill her Sheriff obligations, she turns the patrol car around and heads back to the Mayor’s office. 

 

* * *

 

Despite all of her complaints about others who possess the same bad habit, Emma hasn’t quite figured how to knock on doors either. Regina isn’t expecting her quite so soon after they parted, and that is the reason why she felt confident enough to suspend her current visitor from the ceiling after he had, stupidly, threatened her.

Glancing between them with fairly mild concern considering, Emma asks, “Uh, should I come back later?”

“No.” Regina sighs, lowering and releasing the irritable man child as she says, “The smelly pirate was just leaving- weren’t you?”

“I…” Hook’s jaw audibly clicks at her glare and he turns on his heel, storming from her office.

Amused, given the grin she wears, Emma inches closer. “What was that about?”

Regina shrugs and pushes from her desk, closing the distance between them. “He was insisting I owe him a favour.”

Emma grabs her hips, bringing them together for a kiss before she questions, “For what?”

“For,” Regina drawls, “and I quote;  _ robbing me of my bloody girlfriend, love _ .” She rolls her eyes, smirking when she says, “I told him if he had the sense to kill me and perhaps bathed more often, he might have been more successful in keeping you.”

“What was the favour?”

“Irrelevant, as I said no.” She isn’t going to consider it, and she certainly isn’t going to share his idiotic demand. She doesn’t owe him anything. If anything, he owes them all after they saved his wretched life. “He decided his only option to sway me was by resorting to violence- a decision I do believe he quickly regretted.”

Emma smirks. “You’re pretty badass.”

“Thank you, dear.”

“Makes sense why I love you,” she adds.

Regina raises a brow. She’d wondered if their little moment might come back to bite her on the ass. “You have so many reasons to choose from,” she teases before smiling softly and wrapping her arms around Emma’s neck. She brushes their lips together lightly and murmurs, “Bothering you, is it?”

“No,” Emma denies instantly. She tilts her head thoughtfully, then shrugs and says, “I mean, it could have been a little more romantic-”

“Nonsense,” Regina interrupts, voice chiding. “It was perfect.” Emma grins before kissing her again. She reciprocates, waiting until Emma decides to end it before she questions, “If not that though, why are you here?”

Emma’s grin widens and she slides the hands from her hips, down and around to her backside. “I decided I’d like to be bad for a little while longer.”

“Oh my,” Regina purrs with a grin of her own. She presses their bodies more firmly together as she breathes, “How  _ did _ I get so lucky?”

“Who knows, but you’re about to get even luckier.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the dumb plot begin. I'll try not to drag this on for another 50 chapters like a certain other, stupid, spontaneous plot-developing story.


	21. Chapter 21

“Are you going to get that?”

Having spent the last week making up for neglecting her duties as Sheriff by working a shit ton of overtime, which basically meant she spent most of the days staring at paperwork, or her desk, or rescuing cats from trees with the occasional Pongo chase through town and throwing a certain dwarf into a cell every night, Emma had decided before Regina asked that no, she wasn’t.

She assumed the last two calls she ignored would have answered that.

“It’s my day off.”

If it’s an emergency, then whoever it is should be calling her father. If it’s not an emergency, then she doesn’t care and whoever it is can go jump in the nearest lake.

Regina sighs against her chest, then mumbles, “It might be Henry.”

“It might be-” she concedes, though she highly doubts it considering his mother is currently safe and in her arms. She continues, “-in an alternate universe where he doesn’t immediately call you when he can’t get ahold of me.”

Huffing, Regina wriggles against her. Emma loosens her hold but when Regina flips onto her other side and reaches for the phone, she grabs her arm, tugging it back and away from the coffee table. “Emma…”

“Regina,” she murmurs, a small smile playing at the edges of her mouth as she nuzzles the back of Regina’s neck.

There’s another huff. “At least let me turn it off.”

“Fine.” 

Her hand shoots out before Emma catches it and entwines their fingers. She knows better than that. Regina is curious to the point it’s adorable, but it can also be vaguely annoying at the wrong time. “Magic only.”

With ample grumbling, Regina uses her other hand to flick her wrist, the room now silent but for the voices from the TV. Emma has no idea what they’re watching or even what’s being said, as the volume had been turned down over an hour ago when Regina decided it was time for her nap because despite the fact they both manage to sleep anywhere between 6 to 9 hours every night, they are still doing that.

Turns out, Regina really likes her naps.

Emma’s a pretty big fan of them too.

 

* * *

 

It’s quiet. Quiet enough for Regina to feel herself drifting back to sleep. Before Emma, she’d never known this comfort. Emma might be an irritating fun ruiner, but she has too many good qualities to tarnish her appeal. 

“When are you due back at work?”

She hums, sinking deeper into the promise of dark contentment where she can dream of those sweet green eyes and soft, golden curls. Emma has to repeat the question before she replies, voice soft, rasped. “I took a half day.”

“Worried I was going to destroy your house?”

“Our house,” she murmurs, “and no.” 

Emma is waiting for a reason, she knows but to admit such a thing, aloud? Emma doesn’t need any more ammunition against her, perfectly capable of being a nuisance without her assistance.

“You missed me.”

Teasing- cocky. Regina bites her lip, hiding a smile. She has never been all that skilled in hiding the truth. With Emma, it is even more difficult given how well they know one another. “If you’ll recall,” she drawls quietly, “you spent most of the morning sending me dirty texts; I can hardly miss you when you never leave me alone.”

Emma chuckles, the sound warm and rumbling against her shoulder. “You’d get bored if I didn’t constantly bother you,” she says and Regina presses deeper into the arm beneath her head in an attempt to escape the nose burrowing behind her ear.

She fails, stifling a laugh when it tickles. She feigns annoyance and growls, “You-”

A knock at the door interrupts and her playful mood dissipates as her warning becomes a heavy, drawn out sigh. Ever since Emma returned to being a responsible adult, people refuse to leave them alone.

“Let’s ignore it,” Emma says, nipping at the lobe of her ear.

“Our cars are in the driveway.”

“Then they’ll know we’re ignoring them,” she reasons, “maybe they’ll leave faster.”

Grinning, Regina turns back onto her original side and rests their heads together. “Your logic is sound, but I’m afraid too many people in this town can be irritatingly persistent.”

Emma nods, their noses bumping, expression contorting thoughtfully before she asks, “Wanna curse them again?”

Regina smiles. “Yes.”

“We’ll need a heart.” Eyebrows wagging idiotically, she offers, “We can share mine?”

“After it’s been near grungy pirate chest hair?” Regina shudders. “I think not.”

“Well isn’t this cozy?”

Startling them both, their heads snap towards the voice. Regina scowls while Emma comments, “Barging into people’s homes uninvited really is a fairy tale thing.”

“Told you.” 

“We could use his,” she suggests. “Think Belle will mind?”

Regina scoffs. “I’d be surprised if he has one.”

“Good point.”

Glaring at the man, voice wary, she questions, “What do you want, Rumple?”

“I was robbed,” he states before fixing Emma with his stare. “I assumed the Sheriff would want to know.”

“You sincerely underestimate how little I like you.”

His brow rises. “So I’m to assume the fact your boyfriend stole a bean from me and opened a portal at the docks is of no interest to you?”

“Oh, for fuck sakes.” Gesturing quickly, Regina disappears from the sofa and appears on the dock beside a surprised Charming. Ignoring him, she sneers, letting her magic carry her voice to the ship slowly approaching the whirlpool in the middle of the ocean. “Hook!”


	22. Chapter 22

Figuring out where Regina went isn’t hard but by the time Emma gets to the docks, she’s missed a good portion of what went on in her absence. She has to assume by Hook’s sodden appearance and downtrodden expression, Regina managed to put a stop to whatever he’d been planning.

When Regina notices her, she raises a brow. “You took your sweet time,” she says, glancing behind her. She frowns, voice rising in confusion. “Did you  _ run _ here?”

Shrugging, sheepish, Emma saunters closer. She could have poofed herself here, but if it’s not out of instinct borne from panic that someone she loves might be in danger, it’s a little more difficult than Regina makes it seem, and fuck if she knows where her car keys are.

Changing the subject, she gestures to Hook and questions, “What’d I miss?”

“What you missed,  _ love _ ,” Hook spits, “is the bitch here costing me my  _ ship! _ ”

Emma clenches her fist but Regina appears unfazed, sniffing as she says, “I’m not the idiot who decided to open a portal to the Underworld in the middle of the ocean a month after everyone here risked their lives to save your stupid, inconsiderate, ungrateful ass.”

“Wait, what?” Emma glances between them before settling on Hook. “You want to go back to the Underworld? Why?”

“Why not? There’s nothing left for me here” he retorts.

“Oh spare us the pity party, you pathetic mongrel,” Regina snaps. “If you want a girlfriend so badly, hire an escort in the city like a normal person.”

“Okay,” Emma drawls, crossing her arms. “I’m confused. Does this have something to do with that favour he asked you for that day I interrupted in your office?” Regina inclines her head and Emma shakes hers before looking back at Hook. “You were going to try and find Milah?”

He turns away from her. “He was going to try and  _ bring her back _ ,” Regina explains, sneering down at him. “Idiot. It wasn’t bad enough you thought you could do the impossible, you also thought it a good idea to steal from the Dark One-”

Jaw clenching, he lifts his head and interrupts. “I didn’t steal anything,” he growls, teeth bared. “The crocodile  _ gave _ me the bean.”

Frowning, Regina glances at her for confirmation and she nods. Her lie detector hadn’t pinged but she doesn’t need it to know he’s telling the truth. He never was any good at lying despite what he seemed to think.

Rumple, on the other hand.

“Fucking imp,” Regina mutters, loud enough for Emma to hear as she bites the inside of her cheek.

“Why would Rumple lie?” Realizing she hadn’t even noticed her father standing off to the side until he speaks, Emma shoots him an apologetic smile. She receives a grin in reply before he adds, “I thought we were all passed this.”

Regina snorts. “If only- those two are like children. Perhaps he simply wanted to mess with our idiot Captain.”

“Either that or he’s distracting us,” Emma offers the thought when it occurs to her. She doesn’t know what he might be after, but she’s known him long enough to expect the worst most of the time.

“Or that,” Regina agrees, sighing before she raises a hand. Her magic gathers around Hook who appears resigned to his fate, disappearing without protest in a plume of smoke. She explains once he’s gone, “I’ve relocated him to a cell until he’s calmed down... the crate of booze I sent with him should help.”

 

* * *

 

Hook doesn’t deserve anything from her. He doesn’t deserve anything from any of them, and yet she can’t help but feel somewhat responsible for his misery. Sometimes she wonders if the side effects of becoming one of the ‘good guys’ is worth it, and then of course she sees Emma from the corner of her eye and realizes a little unearned sympathy is worth what she receives in return.

Whether it’s because she still cares about Hook for whatever reason, or because she is a  _ good guy _ too, Emma is smiling at her in a way that makes her think she might actually be proud of her. 

It’s revolting, really.

“Stop that.”

Feigning thought, Emma wrinkles her nose after a moment and says, “Um. No.”

Eyes narrowing playfully, Regina demands, “Stop it right now, or I’ll go and kill him.”

“No you won’t.”

“I’ll kill you,” she threatens as Emma steps up beside her and wraps an arm around her waist.

“Not in front of my father.” Emma kisses her on the cheek, then adds, “He’ll cry. Do you want to see him cry, Regina?”

Pressing her head to Emma’s temple, Regina closes her eyes with a sigh.  _ No one _ wants to see that, least of all her. “You’re lucky I love you,” she murmurs.

Emma squeezes her hip. “I really am.”

It’s then Charming decides to ruin the moment.

“You two are adorable.”

Regina stares at him as she’s overcome with the sudden desire to set him on fire. “Emma.”

“If you think you can handle my mother when he’s gone, go ahead.”

She huffs. “I used to relish seeing her tears.” Mocking Snow while those big fat droplets rolled down her cheeks used to be among the memories she cherished most, now they just make her feel bad.

“I know.”

“You’ve all ruined me,” she accuses and glares at David as he guffaws. 

“We’re horrible people,” Emma admits. “Thoughtless jerks, we are.”

“At least you admit it.”

She snorts and deadpans, “I like to be honest about my flaws.”

“Mhmm.”

This time, David manages to hold his tongue a whole ten seconds before intruding once again. “I don’t mean to interrupt another of your moments, but are we doing anything about Rumple?”

At least he  _ sounds _ apologetic about it, Regina supposes. “I thought we’d just wait until his plan blows up in his face.” When his eyes then dart between her and Emma, as though he can’t quite believe  _ she _ said it and not his daughter, she shrugs. “It’s been too quiet lately; I’m curious.”

Mouth quirking, he shakes his head. “In that case, would you both like to join Snow and I for dinner?”

Regina considers it. She would  _ like _ to return home and continue what her and Emma had been doing before Rumple appeared, but she can tell from the look on Emma’s face that she should accept his offer. “Might as well,” she drawls, nudging Emma in the side as she says, “Go retrieve our son.”

“God,” Emma mock complains, “so bossy.”

“You love it.”

She grins. “Yeah, I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be a tad slow. While I do have an idea of the plot, giving other characters a bigger part in my stories isn't exactly something I do, so I still need to sort through it and figure out their roles, as well as make sure everything makes sense to those of you who can't read my mind.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to post this tomorrow because... reasons, but then I started thinking about the next chapter and I use the exact same document for each chapter so. If this fic ever gets deleted for whatever reason, there's no backup but on the bright side, I'm so impatient, I overcame my own petti- uh, reasons, for not posting this today. Yay me.

Each time Emma caught her parents in bed together, she’d silently sworn revenge on them because no matter the age difference, no kid wants to think about their parents doing that let alone want to see it with their own eyes. All those numerous, disturbing times though, she didn’t imagine Regina would be the one helping her get said revenge and, at this present point in time, she doesn’t quite know _why_ she never entertained the idea that it could be.

“Please, Emma, make her stop.”

Staring blankly at her mother’s pale features, she says, “I told you to stop encouraging her.” Why, then, would she put a stop to the consequences of her mother not listening to her? “You could have prevented this about three Manhattans ago.”

“ _Excuse me_ ,” Snow drawls, “for not expecting her to molest my daughter in front of me. Henry could walk in at any minute!”

Emma shrugs. If there’s even a chance Henry hasn’t passed out somewhere in the house after all the sugar he was fed for dessert, then _should_ he walk in, he’s smart enough to turn right back around. Her mother _chose_ to sit down across from them, naively believing her presence would be enough to tear an extremely amorous Regina away from her.

An entire army would have more luck, and they’d still fail.

“Emma.”

Eyes rolling, she slowly draws her head further and further away from the mouth sucking on the lobe of her ear. Once it pops free, she turns to find the pout she knew would be there and leans in, kissing it from her mouth. Regina straddles her lap during and she can hear her mother’s gasp, then groan in realization that it isn’t about to end just because they have an audience.

She can’t be sure, but she thinks _finally_ Snow understands and the faint rustling is that of her leaving.

“Hon-” Head tipping back as Regina’s mouth moves to her jaw and down her neck, Emma raises an eyebrow, just able to make out her father over the back of the couch. He blinks down at her. “Whoa. Okay.”

Beside him, Snow grabs his arm and turns him around, pushing him toward the stairs. “Let’s go and find Henry.”

“He’s passed out in Emma’s old room, I was coming to-”

“Yes yes, keep moving, David.”

Listening for the sounds of their feet on the stairs as they ascend to the second floor, Emma starts to smile. Regina raises her head, hair falling to obscure one half of her face. A mischievous gleam enters her eyes as Emma reaches up to tuck it behind her ear, and she purrs, “You play well, Miss Swan.”

“Thanks.”

“Keep it up and life with you might be a lot less bothersome than I was expecting,” she teases.

“Don’t bet on it,” Emma counters, cupping her cheek. She pulls her in and kisses Regina’s mouth softly before letting her hand fall into her lap. “My goal in life is to be the biggest pain in your ass you know.”

Still so very close, Regina murmurs, “Is that right?”

Breath warm against her mouth, Emma licks her lips and glances down. “Uh huh.”

“You’re going to need a new goal then, dearest, because you already are.” Lips upturned in a smirk, Regina adds, “And I still love you.”

Emma whines, eyes flicking up as she pouts. “You don’t play fair.”

“One of the reasons _you_ love _me_ , is it not?”

“Maybe,” she mutters.

“Definitely.”

“Careful,” she warns, “your head’s big enough as is.”

Gaze flicking down, Regina’s stare is pointed when she looks back up and says, “Still small enough to fit in my favourite place.”

“You rotten pervert.” She wiggles her eyebrows and Emma groans, “How is that _hot_ when you do it?”

“I’m not an idiot.”

Playing offended for appearances sake, she nods after a moment, conceding, “I walked into that.”

“You did.”

“Weirdly-” she continues with a small smile. “-I still love you too.”

Regina returns the smile before slipping hands over her shoulders and around her neck. Fingers sinking into her hair, she questions, “Enough to take me home and do wicked things to me?”

Lids fluttering, enjoying the impromptu massage of her scalp, Emma hums. “Only if you never use that word to describe the things I do to you ever again.”

“Would you prefer _deliciously evil_ things?”

She hums again, slightly breathless from having the question husked in her ear when she replies, “Absolutely.”

 

* * *

 

Ensuring their son will be safe in the hands of his grandparents for the night, Regina poofs them home. It was late and with what she has planned for Emma, their son would most likely thank her for the consideration were he to ever somehow discover her reason for leaving him behind.

Confident there’s no chance of that, she takes Emma by the arm, too impatient to wait for her to recover from the abrupt change in location as she drags her upstairs to their bedroom.

Even before stepping foot through the door, she notices something is off. Eyes narrowing, she releases Emma’s arm and slaps the wall, hitting the light switch. The growl builds soft and low in her throat, agitated despite her expectations.

“Damn,” Emma says. “Rumple?”

“Would be my guess,” Regina confirms as she takes in the sheer chaos their usually tidy bedroom has become. Drawers open, wardrobe doors thrown wide, their clothes litter the floor- the bed. She sighs. “I think we can safely assume he’s looking for something he believes I have.”

As she flicks her wrist, returning everything to the appropriate places, Emma says, “I can kind of see why his plans fail more often than not; dude should clean up after himself.”

Unable to help herself, Regina smiles. In times like this, she remembers why she is so very fond of her swan. “It’s the temper,” she explains, more than familiar with the rage that overcomes one when denied the prize they seek. “It doesn’t leave room for rational thought,” she adds. “I imagine getting rid of the mess he’d made was the last thing on his mind.”

“Kinda makes you wonder…” Turning to her, Emma embraces her, arms loose around her waist. “It’s not just me, right?”

“No,” she admits, already feeling the curious little niggle in the back of her mind. “I’ll keep an eye on him,” she promises, “but for now…”

“Deliciously evil things?”

She smirks, repeating, “Deliciously evil things.”


	24. Chapter 24

The next morning when Emma enters the station, she remembers that not all of yesterday was as pleasant as its end. Relieved that Hook is at least asleep in his cell, she walks straight passed him to the kitchen nook in the corner. They hadn’t gotten around to figuring out what she’s going to do with him. His little stunt  _ could _ have endangered the town had it succeeded, but it hadn’t.

Setting up the coffeemaker, she turns around and leans back against the bench, eyes drawn to his cell as she frowns thoughtfully. She could keep him locked up indefinitely, no one would blame her, but then she’d be the one who has to put up with him for as long as she remains Sheriff- which wouldn’t be long if that were her fate. 

Beyond warning him against any more stupid ideas and releasing him, she’s out of options if she wants to avoid interacting with him for any significant length of time. 

“Swan.” 

Breathing a sigh, she dismisses her thoughts for the time being and meets his bleary eyed stare. “What?”

He pushes up from his cot, yawning as he runs a hand through his hair before drawing it back down his face. He inclines his head toward what she assumes is the coffeemaker and asks, “You wouldn’t happen to be making any of that for me, would you?”

“I hadn’t considered it,” she answers truthfully. “I might, if you think you can refrain from pissing me off.”

“Hungover as I am, I do believe that would be in both of our best interests.” He smirks. “You do have a tendency to yell.”

“You could do with a little suffering.”

“Aye,” he concedes, “but could you?”

She snorts. Irritating and cocky as he is, he has a point. All yelling at him ever got her was a day long migraine and an urge to punch every person she came across for the duration. It had taken her a while, but she eventually decided he was the perfect embodiment of the leopard analogy; incapable of change. 

Hook will always be Hook, and he will always annoy her in some way or another.

With another sigh, she turns around and pulls two mugs from the rack on the wall. If he were Leroy, she’d bring him a glass of water and offer to get him something from the diner to soak up all the alcohol he’d drunk the night before, but if he were Leroy, she would also like him a hell of a lot more than she does.

Head shaking, she brings him his coffee, passing it to him through the bars. He accepts it and she’s surprised when he smiles at her. It’s been a while since he’d looked at her with anything more than a twisted sort of expectation in his eyes, like she’d owed him something.  _ Why  _ he thought she owed him, she was never entirely sure; it wasn’t as though he ever did anything for her and even if he had, she’d literally been put through hell before she realized she has never owed him a damn thing regardless.

“You going to behave, or am I going to have to come up with a reason for you stay in there?”

He shrugs, taking a sip from his mug as he returns to the cot. “Ask me again when I’m no longer hungover.” Figuring she’s better off waiting, she too shrugs and is on her way to her office when he asks, “Did the crocodile really claim I stole the bean?”

“Yeah,” she says, pausing to glance over her shoulder at him.

His upper lips curls. Scowling, he warns, “You and Her Majesty best watch out for him, Swan.”

She rolls her eyes and walks into her office. Before closing her door, she turns toward him and assures, “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know,  _ Jones. _ ”

 

* * *

 

Regina doesn’t think to consider what Rumple had done the night before until it’s almost lunch time. It hits her then that if he’d had the audacity to ransack her house and not even  _ try _ to hide what he’d done, then it’s likely her home isn’t the only place he’d searched. She texts Emma with her suspicions, informing her of exactly where she’s going and why just in case the situation is more serious than she thinks. If she starts to meddle and it turns out to be something dangerous and something happens to her, Emma will never let her live it down.

Satisfied with the text, she sends it off and transports herself to the cemetery outside her vault. She hasn’t been here for a while. Hasn’t needed to. She doesn’t need to hide anymore and if she ever needs something from within, a quick snap of her fingers is usually enough to get whatever it is.

She can feel the wards she placed over it the last time she was here. Though they seem to be holding strong, it doesn’t guarantee Rumple has left it alone. If anyone is capable of replacing them or bypassing them entirely, then it would most likely be him.

Dispelling the first two wards with a flick of her fingers, she sweeps her hand through the air and throws open the doors. When she does it a second time, it’s slower, the gravelly slide of her father’s tomb swept aside to reveal the entrance down into the vault.

Her suspicions prove true halfway down the stairs when she notes the absence of the third and final ward. Sneering, she quickens her pace. Invading her home is one thing- a terrible thing- but invading her  _ sanctuary _ when he could have simply  _ asked _ for what he wanted? She is going to tear that slimy little imp apart.

Quickly scanning the main chamber as she enters, her eyes zero in on the large metallic box in one corner. Unlike her home, he’d taken the time to return everything to its place but even still that same feeling of something being  _ off _ pervades the air surrounding her.

She swiftly marches over to the box, slicing open the tip of her finger with the nail of her thumb along the way. Rubbing her blood over the locks, she waits for the almost silent hiss as they disengage, and glares down into the contents of the box.

Immediately, she knows exactly what’s missing and before she’s given it any kind of thought whatsoever, she seeks out the familiar thread that binds them, student and mentor, and transports herself to him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would have had this up sooner, but I can't concentrate when there's too much noise and my neighbours are a bunch of dickheads. I also couldn't decide if I wanted the plot to be serious or crackish before [evergrove](http://archiveofourown.org/users/evergrove/pseuds/evergrove) decided for me. Thanks buddy ;)

Emma checks her phone for the umpteenth time before flicking her gaze to the clock on the wall. Regina had texted her exactly 27 minutes ago and now she’s getting worried. Surely taking inventory of her vault doesn’t take this long? Regina is stupidly perceptive, _surely_ she would notice immediately if something is missing, so why hasn’t she texted again to let her know everything is fine?

Is it not fine?

Did she have time to summon a fireball, did she protect herself rather than waste the time texting? Would it even do her any good, if Rumple _is_ back to his old, scheming ways? How is Emma supposed to know if something is or isn’t okay? She’s not fucking psychic.

She might feel it.

Maybe.

She’d felt it before; when the town hall blew all those years ago. In the mine. In Neverland. After. Swallowing against the lump in her throat, she checks her phone once more before coming to a decision and launching herself out of her chair. If Regina isn’t in trouble, she’s going to kill her.

Snatching her jacket off her chair, she storms out of her office and makes a beeline for the exit. She hears Hook. Kind of. She hears maybe a fourth of whatever question he tries to ask her, and pretends not to, dismissing him as easily as she still breathes while working herself into a complete freakout.

With every step closer she gets to her car, the panic builds. They were due a longer break than this. It wasn’t that long ago they were in the Underworld where she’d received the greatest goddamn wakeup call of her life. If Regina has put herself at risk and Emma loses her- them, then…

“...could have asked for _help_!”

Eyes widening at the shout, she spins on her heel. “Oh thank fuck,” she breathes, realizing she’s managed to poof herself to Regina without meaning to. She deflates, relieved as she drapes herself over the counter in the middle of Gold’s shop and listens to the voices coming from the back room.

“One of these days,” Regina growls, “your stubborn desire to be the only person in her life is going to get her killed. You’re not the only one who cares about her, Rumple.”

His scoff comes through the curtain loud and clear. “As if I would trust any of them with my Belle,” he says, and Emma perks right back up. “ _They_ are the reason we go through half the mess we do to begin with.”

 

* * *

 

“They’re also the reason we haven’t died a dozen times or more,” Regina snaps before a throat clears somewhere behind her and she whirls around, fireball in hand. She extinguishes it just as quickly as she’d summoned it, the racing of her heart slowing at the sight of wide, brilliant green eyes. She lets out a breath in relief and on the same breath murmurs, “Emma...”

Emma smiles sheepishly. “Hi.”

“The Saviour, just what we needed,” Rumple deadpans. Regina glares at him but all he does is return his attention to the book in front of him, gesturing at her dismissively. “Don’t mind me.”

“I don’t,” she counters with a sniff before looking back at Emma. She’s about to ask her what it is she’s doing here but then she sees the narrowing of those eyes, as if Emma _knows_ , and she closes her mouth, the answer flitting through her mind just in time.

The slight pang of guilt hits her swiftly, and then she’s moving across the room to embrace the woman she loves, arms going around her neck and pulling her close, Emma buries her head between neck and shoulder, hands gripping her hips and squeezing, comfort and reprimand offered in equal measure. Regina understands the message and apologizes silently, kissing her cheek before setting her own against Emma’s temple.

So wrapped up in her curiosity as to _why_ Rumple had stolen her mother’s grimoire, and then more curiosity when he’d explained, she’d failed to keep Emma up to date. Before Emma, she hadn’t really had anyone who genuinely worried about her. She’s still not entirely used to it, but she won’t be making excuses, not after everything they’ve been through. She should have known better and kept Emma informed, no matter her reasons for not doing so.

“What happened to Belle,” Emma mumbles.

Regina sighs, fingers teasing the hair at the nape of her neck as she replies, “She’s gone missing.” She feels Emma’s nod, as if she’d expected as much, and explains, “Rumple decided the easiest way to find her was by stealing from a dead woman and not bothering to tell anyone.”

“We’ve been over this, dearie.”

“As you can tell,” she continues in a drawl, “he’s being a jackass about it.”

He hmphs but before he can say anything, Emma relinquishes their embrace and Regina moves to her side as she speaks. “You are being a bit of dick,” she says. “Unlike you, Belle actually has friends here. We could help if-”

“How,” he interrupts without even looking at them. He flicks through page after page of the grimoire, his tone blank with suggestions. “Do you know who took her? Do you know where she is? Perhaps she left of her own free will? What then, Miss Swan?” He does look up then, brow raised. “If she has decided to leave- decided she deserves better than I; would you still be so willing to _help_?”

Regina side-eyes Emma, curious herself. She wouldn’t, personally, but she also doubts Belle had left on her own. As many reasons as the woman has to do exactly that, her love for Rumple has always been far stronger than her sense. She adores him despite his many, many flaws, and even if she didn’t, she would at least have the common decency to leave the man a note before she disappeared- something flowery and sickening, but ultimately bittersweet.

After a brief silence in which Emma is quite obviously considering his question, she shakes her head. “If she did, then no,” she answers truthfully. “I wouldn’t help you, but Belle loves you. I don’t get it, honestly, but she does. She married you. She has your _child_ growing inside of her. There’s no way she just left you.”

He lowers his gaze back to the book, mouth quirking upward. “I appreciate your faith in our relationship, Miss Swan.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well. You gonna let us help or not?”

His shoulder rises, voice airy when he concedes, “If you must.”


	26. Chapter 26

Looking around the back of the shop in search of somewhere to sit, Emma spots a comfortable looking chair in the corner and throws herself down into it. When she looks up and finds two sets of amused gazes on her, she sticks out her tongue. Rumple shakes his head while Regina chuckles and saunters over to her. Emma tugs her down into her lap, sitting her chin on a shoulder and wrapping her arms around a waist as Regina leans back against her. 

“So… what do we think happened,” she asks. “Abducted? Random portal to who knows where? Crossed the town line for a night out as her saucy alter ego?”

Rumple frowns at her mention of Lacey and before she can question it, he rushes from the room. Neither her nor Regina follow but he returns a few minutes later, a notable look of relief on his face as he says, “The teacup is still here.”

Emma raises an eyebrow and repeats, “The teacup?”

“Her version of the shawl I used when we went to New York,” he explains. “She would have lost her memory crossing the town line without it.”

“Ah.” She nods, pushing aside the other questions she has about the teacup; if his expression is any indication, then asking him anything more about it is only going to annoy him. Returning them to the matter at hand, she questions, “Any chance she got bit by the adventure bug again and stowed away on Hook’s ship?”

His glare is almost enough to have her mouth snapping shut, but not quite. “What? I’m trying to come up with scenarios that don’t involve you sucking and driving her away.”

Regina snorts, drawing his attention away from her. “You can’t deny that  _ is _ the most likely scenario,” she says. “You aren’t exactly the nicest man on the planet.”

“You also tend to lie a lot,” Emma adds, ignoring the flare of his nostrils. If he doesn’t want to hear the truth about himself, then he should probably stop being a jerk. “Anyway,” she continues, “as I was saying, there aren’t a lot of scenarios that  _ don’t _ involve you being you, so maybe think about them before getting all uppity with me for suggesting them.” 

His glare lasts for a good handful of seconds more before he deflates. “I don’t believe she would intentionally risk our child,” he mutters. 

Emma concedes with a nod. She doesn’t believe the same of him given his history with Neal, but Belle is not the Dark One. Belle is smart and sweet, and perhaps a little bit naive but she is a good person. “Alright.” She winces at her next thought, but she has to ask, “Could he have abducted her?”

Rumple’s eyes flash and his upper lip curls. Emma stiffens, ready to intervene somehow but a hand on her thigh tells her to relax only a moment before Rumple closes his eyes and takes a slow, deep breath. 

When he opens them again, he sighs. “No,” he says, sounding understandably dejected. “Much as it infuriates me, I believe they became… friends while I was indisposed.”

Recalling a time she’d questioned Hook on his absence, uncharacteristic as it were he hadn’t been attached to her hip at the time, Emma remembers he mentioned comforting Belle. He had said he was  _ making amends _ . She’d rolled her eyes at the time, but if the man’s arch-nemesis believes him innocent, then she supposes she should give him the benefit of the doubt.

_ Oh well. Maybe I’ll get lucky and the station will collapse on top of him while I’m gone. _

“Was there anyone else?” 

Blinking as the low, husky breath warms her ear, she croaks, “Anyone else, what?”

“Who has shown interest in our little librarian,” Regina elaborates, stroking her thigh. “Better to go through all the suspects, not simply the ones we wish to be rid of. Wouldn’t you agree,  _ Sheriff _ ?”

 

* * *

 

 

Undeniably caught, Emma tries to burrow into her neck in what Regina can only assume is a shameful display of guilt- as shameful a display as one can while grinning their idiot head off. She chuckles and reaches up, sliding her fingers through Emma’s hair. She tugs gently, persistent. “Well?”

“Keith,” Emma offers with a shrug.

Regina frowns but Rumple interrupts her next question. “He was interested in Lacey, not Belle. I took care of him.”

“I remember,” Emma mumbles against her neck. “Will?”

This suggestion is met with dead silence. Regina glances between them, brow rising higher and higher as the silence stretches and the arms around her tighten. She eventually feels a sigh against her neck and the warmth leave her skin as Emma raises her head.

“Sorry.”

Forehead furrowed in thought, Rumple bats at the air with his hand, dismissing the apology. As Emma slumps and the arms around her fall slack, Regina huffs. “Do either of you intend to fill me in?”

Emma coughs before waving a hand toward the imp. There’s a hint of humour in her voice when she says,  “I think I’ll leave that up to him.”

Rumple smirks when Regina meets his gaze. She glares and he rolls his eyes. “They dated for a while, when I was…”

“Being a jackass?” He opens his mouth to retort but closes it after a moment and inclines his head instead. Regina hums, considering. Their relationship has always been a bit of push and pull. It wouldn’t be unusual for her to tease him further but the fact he hasn’t outright dismissed Emma’s latest idea yet is far more appealing. “Is he a possibility?”

“Perhaps.”

“Then we start there,” she says decisively. “Where might one generally find him?”

Rumple sniffs. “With the merry men.”

Something that feels a lot like lead forms in Regina’s stomach. “Oh.” She hasn’t spoken to Robin since the Underworld when she’d ended things between them- when she realized it wasn’t him she wanted. He had tried to talk her around and convince her they could be good together but she hadn’t been having any of it. 

She had had to thoroughly disassemble every argument he had for why they were meant to be before he gave up. Brutal honesty had been beneficial at the time, but it did nothing in terms of cultivating a future friendship. Short of a few snide comments in passing, Robin has avoided her ever since.

“I’ll go,” Emma offers quietly. She kisses her jaw, then shifts from underneath her, smiling down at her as she stands. “At least if he acts like an ass, I can arrest him and won’t have to listen to him whine about you getting away with setting him on fire.”


	27. Chapter 27

Entering the Merry Men’s camp, Emma is suitably impressed. She hasn’t had cause to visit until now, and it is nothing like she was expecting. Whenever anyone mentioned the place, she’d envisioned a grouping of tents, maybe a campfire or two; a normal, everyday campsite one might find out in the world outside of Storybrooke, only larger. In actuality, the camp is more akin to a small village surrounded by trees spanning at least a mile in every direction. There are tents but they are few, and far bigger than any tents she’s ever seen.

Not that she has seen many, mind.

She’d liked the idea of camping once upon a time but the older she got, the more she preferred her creature comforts; food she didn’t need to hunt, clean water, electricity… 

Netflix and a comfortable bed to lay in while binging her favouri-

“Sheriff?”

Right. Shooing away the realization she hasn’t watched as much Netflix lately as she used to, as well as the corresponding thought that it’s because there isn’t a single show; past, present or future that can compare to her time spent with Regina, she eyes the scruffy man approaching her.

She can’t for the life of her remember his name.

It’s something starting with G- Gulliver? Gilbert? Something like that. She remembers thinking it was something no sane mother who loves her son would name him in this day and age. “Hey. Sorry to bother, but I was hoping I might find Will here?”

Stopping in front of her, the man scratches his beard with a thoughtful look. He is, she decides, in serious need of a shave, and soap. Lots and lots of soap. “Which one?”

Not expecting the question, she wonders just how out of touch she must be to not have known there’s more than one of them in town. She tries not to breathe in too deeply before she replies, “Uh, Scarlet?”

He grimaces, head shaking. “Sorry, haven’t seen him for a few days now. You might wanna try asking that broad who works at the pawn-”

“Can I help you, Sheriff?”

_ Ugh. _

She had a feeling it wasn’t going to be as simple as in, out, missing person found and beady eyed little rat boy arrested, but was it really too much to ask that her girlfriend’s former whatever be off counting birds or molesting trees, or doing whatever it is he does with his happy little hobo friends?

“Thanks,” she says, flashing Gunther, or whoever, a smile before she turns to face Robin. Seeing his stance, she rolls her eyes and ignores his sad attempt at posturing to ask, “Have you seen Will Scarlet?”

“What if I have?”

“Oh, I don’t know-” she drawls, ample sarcasm lacing her tone. “-maybe you’d know where he is, and maybe you could tell me.”

He smirks, smug. “Maybe I don’t want to.”

With a strained smile, she dismisses the overwhelming urge to punch him in the face and counters, “Then the answer to your original question is no, you cannot help me… which isn’t in the least bit surprising given how completely useless you’ve been to everyone since you arrived here.” She flutters her lashes, then steps around him and tosses sweetly over her shoulder, “Good afternoon, boys.”

 

* * *

 

_ “You can’t tell me you didn’t see it coming.” _

_ “They sure took their bloody time.” _

Perched against the wall just outside the station’s main office, Regina smirks. She was looking for Emma but upon hearing the voices, she’d paused, hesitant to interrupt the conversation going on in the next room. The fact that one of those voices belongs to Red is a good indication Emma hasn’t returned yet. Had that not been proof enough, that Red is talking to Hook about  _ them _ certainly is; Emma would have put a stop to it otherwise.

She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. As soon as she concluded Emma wasn’t here, she had every intention of turning around and leaving but something in Hook’s tone had stopped her. She couldn’t figure out what it was at first but after listening to them talk for a while, she’s fairly confident what she hears is resignation, and it amuses her.

All this time and all of this hassle, and to think it could have been avoided by tossing the imbecile in a cell and letting Red have a go at him.

“You know...” Startled, she jerks her head away from the wall before the owner of the voice sinks in and arms envelop her from behind. “It’s rude to listen in on other people’s conversations.”

She turns in the embrace, a mock pout on her lips. “But Sheriff,” she counters, “it’s so very entertaining.” She leans in to claim the responding grin and relishes the way Emma melts so easily into her. Licking the sweet, sticky taste from her mouth as they part, Regina hums. “I see someone went and stuffed their face without me.”

“Victory bearclaw,” Emma murmurs, kissing her again. Regina sighs into her mouth and runs fingers through her hair, tugging lightly after a moment in silent question. “Still don’t know where Will is,” Emma shares, nipping her lower lip before she breaths, “but I did stop myself from bashing your stupid soulmate’s face in.”

“Are you certain the bearclaw wasn’t to cheer you up after the fact?”

“Well…”

“Mhmm,” Regina hums. Taking in the innocent expression Emma then adorns, she chuckles warmly. “You are entirely see through, my love.”

“Nah.” Wrapping the arms more tightly around her, Emma disagrees, “You just know me better than everyone else. It’s very satisfying…” She lowers her voice to add, “As is everything about you.”

As if to punctuate her point, she caresses a hand down to the cheek of Regina’s ass, and squeezes. Regina groans. “I very suddenly don’t care for Rumple and his problems,” she confesses, pressing back against the hand. “Why don’t you set your little pirate free and meet me at home?”

Wearing her most winning smile, Emma kisses her cheek and disentangles them. “I do so like the way you think,” she says with a wink, patting her on the ass as she walks passed and disappears into the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry; we're not really forgetting about Belle, but I can only put so much into these chapters.


	28. Chapter 28

“You spoil me.”

Emma smiles indulgently down at Regina. If anyone spoils anyone, then it certainly isn’t her but she isn’t going to argue. After the things Regina just let her do to her, she doubts she can _speak_ let alone come up with the words necessary to refute such a ridiculous claim.

“Come here.” Smiling wider, she lowers herself onto the body beneath her and buries her face in the warm skin of Regina’s neck. Kissing the side of her head, Regina entwines their legs and strokes her back. “So cuddly.”

Emma snorts, then mumbles, “Shut up.” A swat to her backside makes her wince. “Ow.”

“Please,” Regina drawls, “You were begging me to practically beat you only a few minutes ago. You’ll get no sympathy from me, especially not after subjecting me to that potty mouth.”

“You love my potty mouth,” Emma retorts, and it definitely wasn’t a beating she was begging for, but Regina knows that already. “I’d wager you love it almost as much as you love my ass.”

“Perhaps.” Pinching said ass, Regina imparts, “Though I can think of some other areas I love far more than either.” Emma closes her eyes as fingers slip between her thighs. “Here, for instance…”

She groans, the sound not entirely one of pleasure. It’s preferable to the pinch since she’s still a slight bit sore from the spanking but, wet as she is, there is no way she has the strength to survive another orgasm. Thankfully, Regina seems to understand this without explanation and drags them away after teasing her briefly, painting a cheek with the slick heat of their afternoon delights as she dances the fingers over her ass.

“How do you feel about a nap?”

“Henry’s home,” Emma murmurs. She’d almost stopped what she was doing when she heard the front door shut. Luckily, she remembered Henry prefers to stay downstairs until after dinner because school is exhausting enough that he can’t be bothered finding the required energy to climb all those stairs before then.

His words, not hers, though she can and does sympathize considering she generally feels the exact same way after work.

“Is he?”

“Mmm. Our son is borderline obnoxious when it comes to closing doors.” She raises her head. “A bit like someone else I know.”

Regina cocks a brow, not a trace of amusement in her eyes as she deadpans, “I crave attention.”

“A little less now, I hope.”

“Nonsense,” she scoffs before sweeping away the lock of hair that’s fallen into Emma’s eyes. “Now, I simply crave a certain kind... all the time.” She smirks, adding playfully, “I predict it will only grow worse as the years pass.”

“Oh god, you’re going to kill me.”

“Don’t think that will get you off the hook,” she warns lowly.

“I’m an idiot,” Emma chuckles, “I’m not stupid.”

“Good.” Regina sniffs and Emma grins, adoring the haughty sound and the look to match as only one in love with the woman who wears it so well can. She is especially taken when the look softens, an understanding passing between them as Regina smiles. “What was your thought on that nap idea?”

“You still want to?”

“More than I want to get up and feign interest in one worded, mumbled responses from our sullen teenager about his day,” she replies, eyes rolling in what is likely more exasperation than she feels.

“And here I thought he was your world,” Emma teases before kissing her on the nose.

“He is a very large part of it,” Mouth twitching, Regina returns the kiss. “As are you.”

Emma melts. Sometimes she forgets Regina is the most adorable person on the planet. “Charmer.”

“Only for you.”

She chuckles, sliding from on top of her. She gathers Regina into her arms before a thought occurs to her and she questions, “Should we put some clothes on?”

“Absolutely not.” Gesturing to the door, Emma hears the click before the duvet at their feet drapes itself over them. “There; the door is locked, we won’t awaken as popsicles, and you have no reason to move for the next two hours, at least.”

Grinning as Regina tries to snuggle even closer, Emma murmurs, “If that is what my Queen commands.”

“Oh yes, and there will be many more.” Kissing her shoulder, Regina adds, “I guarantee it.”

Closing her eyes with the thought, Emma smiles to herself. “I can’t wait.”

 

* * *

 

When Regina wakes, her most immediate desire is for more of Emma. She’s convinced after a few minutes of kissing though that there are some things more important than sex. Or, rather, there are certain sounds from one’s stomach that aren’t all that conducive to turning someone on; gurgling, and whatnot. Apparently skipping too many meals can have that effect, and it’s surprisingly not just Emma this time.

It’s only when she walks into the den to ask Henry what he wants for dinner and sees Killian sitting on her couch beside him attempting to play a video game one-handed that she considers trying again. If there is one thing that will be sure to send him running from the house, then surely it would be the sound of his ex to-be-thought true love shouting her name for all to hear.

“Henry, dear, what have I told you about bringing strays home?”

He looks up from his game to flash her a grin. “I promise to feed and water him, as well as take him walkies at least once a day.”

Amused, though unwilling to show it in front of the pirate, she sighs. “Very well.” She turns on her heel, calling over her shoulder, “Don’t forget you’ll need a job to pay for his food.”

As she expects, his whine of, “But mooooom,” follows her to the kitchen where she allows her grin to blossom, shaking her head. She pauses in the doorway at the sight of Emma seated at the counter, taking her in before she marches over to her and snags the beer from her hand.

“Hey!”

“Food first,” she scowls, shoving it back in the fridge. “I refuse to have sex with a drunk.” Turning around to glare at her, she spots Killian standing behind Emma and sneers, “Speaking of- what do you want?”

Emma whips around. “The fuck, Hook?”

He raises hand and hook in mock surrender. “You asked for my help, remember?”

Regina narrows her eyes. His gaze darts to her but the self-satisfied smirk barely has time to form before Emma speaks up. “Yeah,” she admits, “because you claimed to care about Belle, not because I wanted to wake up to find you in _our house_ two days later. What the f-”

“Will isn’t here,” he interrupts with a sigh. “In Storybrooke. I came to tell you. I’ve looked everywhere and there’s no sign of him, or Belle. Red tracked their scents to where the Lost Boys are staying but when we went aside, she lost their trail.”

“Did you question them?”

Irritation flickers across his face. “Of course I bloody questioned them.”

“No need to get your knickers in a twist.” Hearing the amusement in her voice, Regina relaxes and goes about finding them something to eat. “Did you get anything?”

“Only that Will has been staying with them and they haven’t seen him for the last three days. I did find some of Belle’s things in his room…” Curious, Regina looks back and quickly turns around, catching the thing he pulls from his jacket and throws to her. “And that- found it underneath the bed.”

Frowning down at what ends up being a vial, she turns it over in her hand a few times. Unable to find a label, she sighs and slips it into the pocket of her trousers. “I’ll pass it on to Rumple. Was there anything else?” He shakes his head and she waves him off. “Good. Go back into the den, dinner will be ready in a little while.”

She almost laughs at the look of surprise he sends her but shoos him out of the kitchen when she also notices Emma’s annoyed stare. Turning her back to her, she allows enough time to pass for him to be out of earshot.

“He helped,” she explains after a while. “Rewarding him will ensure he continues to do so.” Glancing over a shoulder, she raises a brow and adds, “It will also ensure we have plenty of time to ourselves.”

Emma blinks slowly, her tone disbelieving when she asks, “You’re _delegating_?”

“You sound surprised,” Regina drawls, smirking. “I _am_ a Queen.”


	29. Chapter 29

As long as she has known him, Regina realizes that she has never truly seen Rumple furious. She stops by on her lunch break the next day to give him the vial Hook had found and, well, even she has never cursed up the kind of storm he manages; literally. It starts with the swearing, then the wind that hadn’t so much as hinted as a possibility when she arrived begins to howl, rattling windows and doors. She deals with it all with the poise and composure of the Queen she is, right up until the thunder starts.

It’s unnaturally loud and it’s only out of sheer instinct that she steps away before the door behind her explodes in a flash of light almost bright enough to blind were someone stupid enough to _look_ before it fades.

Spots dance behind her eyes as she glares at Rumple who appears to have calmed enough with the display not to return the glare and disintegrate her on the spot, but not nearly enough for the freak storm to pass with anything resembling any sort of speed.

Her cell rings from inside her coat pocket. She can barely hear it, but she feels the vibration against her hip and fishes it out, throwing up a silencing spell before she answers. She didn’t look at the screen but the _what the fuck_ shouted in her ear would have given away the caller had she not immediately recognized the voice.

“Hello dear,” she drawls before she tilts her head, letting Emma ramble. When she finally repeats the question, hinting at wanting an actual answer, Regina explains, “Rumple is throwing a hissy fit.”

The line goes dead no more than half a second after the words leave her mouth, but then Emma appears beside her and all is well. They both glare at Rumple, and the howling stops. Regina fixes his door, exasperation in her voice. “Honestly.”

“Oh please,” he responds dismissively, “as if you wouldn’t have reacted the exact same way if someone had _drugged_ and abducted the bumbling idiot there.”

Her eyes narrow at the insult before her mind catches up with the rest and she repeats, “Drugged?”

He gestures to the shattered remains of the vial on the floor. She stares down at it in a moment of confusion before remembering that that’s what it is. More concerned with escaping the potential for being impaled by the door, how his tantrum _began_ had slipped her mind entirely.

“Nasturtium,” he states. At her questioning look, he continues. “Smells like. It’s not, but the scent is from a specific flower found in Wonderland that dampens certain side-effects of certain potions; generally those one might use on more… fragile bodies.”

“He didn’t want to hurt the baby,” she surmises and receives a nod that is quickly followed by a scowl.

“A consideration that will gain him nothing when I get my hands on him.”

Quiet up until this moment, Emma clears her throat and says, “And that’s my cue to go.”

Regina frowns. “What, why?”

“I’m a cop, Regina; I can’t stand around listening to a guy talk about murdering someone.”

Brow rising, she points out, “You likely shouldn’t be walking away either.”

“Yeah well.” Emma shrugs. “I have a significant interest in survival and even you couldn’t possibly love me in puree form.”

Regina smirks. “I don’t know,” she starts to say but a kiss to her cheek silences her and she bites her lip.

“Grossing me out is a surefire way to not get sex for the foreseeable future.”

She sighs. “Very well,” she drones, “off you go.”

 

* * *

 

“I thought she was going to help.”

Emma hears Rumple as she leaves the pawnshop. She pauses just outside the door, an almost overwhelming urge to throw it open and explain to him exactly how she _is_ helping by not dragging him into the station and locking him in a cell. She might not be helping _him_ but she’s helping Belle, not to mention the rest of the town by not giving him an excuse to blow it up.

“If she hadn’t spoken to Hook, you wouldn’t know about the vial.” She smiles at the hint of warning in Regina’s tone, the urge slowly dissipating. “She also implied she isn’t going to try and stop you from hurting Will, which we both know she very well could.”

Touched by Regina’s belief in her, her chest warms and she sighs happily as she moves away from the shop. Much as she’d enjoy listening to whatever else Regina might have to say about her, she knows the longer she stayed, the more likely she was to be caught.

After catching and teasing Regina for eavesdropping at the station, there is no way Regina would let her live it down, and Regina teases her enough as it is without the extra ammunition.

Sauntering down the street, she’s halfway to the station before she stops. Turning her head, she gazes in through the window of Game of Thorns, and sighs. She really shouldn’t be helping with this, but the thought that occurs to her as she watches Belle’s father arranging flowers is far too tempting to resist. He won't help. She knows for a fact that after Belle married Rumple, her father wanted nothing more to do with her. She wouldn't blame him, if not the for the fact he'd tried to wipe Belle's memory and gotten his ass rightly handed to him by the imp for his trouble.

He's about to get his ass handed to him again.

With a shake of her head, she shoves open the door and marches into the shop.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was meant to update TB&TE next but I'm sick and the next chapter of that is super porny. Smut is difficult to write (for me) without this bullshit getting in the way, so for now, I'm sticking with this... until it gets porny (again) as well and I decide to write another story to escape the perpetual debauched hell that is my own mind.

Slapping the vial down on the counter, Emma turns on her heel with every intention of leaving the pawnshop. She did what needed to be done- what she would have had to arrest anyone else for doing, but this is it. She won’t try to talk Rumple out of murdering a guy, or mention the possibility that he might to anyone else, but this is where her help ends.

“Miss Swan.” Sighing, hand on the door, she pauses. “What is this?”

“Blood,” she replies, gathered from a nose she’d most likely broken because no one surprises her anymore and everyone in this town is so very predictable.

“I discerned that much,” Rumple drawls, amusement hinted at in his tone. “What I would like to know is who-”

He talks slowly, as if he thinks her simple, but the temptation to hit him is nothing new and easy to resist. Turning just enough to glare at him over a shoulder, she interrupts, “It’s Moe’s.” She gestures to the globe sitting on the counter next to the vial. “I figure it worked for Neal, it should work for Belle.”

Surprise flashes across his face. She waits but after a minute or two of silence and him merely staring at her, she rolls her eyes. Throwing open the door, she practically shouts, “You’re welcome,” before walking out and slamming it behind her.

Despite the lack of gratitude, she doesn’t regret doing what she’d done. Moe had pissed her off when he refused to even care about the fact his daughter and soon-to-be grandson were missing. She had been polite, suggested he could maybe do the right thing and help locate them with a little drop of blood, and he’d laughed in her face.

Rumple might be an absolute shit not worth thinking about, but Belle deserves better than that; her fist was the least of what Moe deserved.

She walks all the way to work and by the time she reaches the station, she’s purged them all from her mind, determined not to give any of them any more thought than absolutely necessary.

Unfortunately, luck is not on her side. She’s barely stepped into the main office when her father calls to her and she glances his way, her made up excuse for dismissing him before she retreats into her office, dying on her tongue at the sight of Moe French glaring at her from behind a bloody handkerchief.

Her mistake, she concedes silently; she should have healed him before she left.

Her father says something about assault charges as she fishes keys from her jacket and walks over to the jail cell. She’s nodding as she unlocks the door, locking it behind her before tossing the keys onto her father’s desk. She’s barely listening to him, too busy mentally berating herself for forgetting she has magic at a time it would have served her well. She’d left evidence, and she is far too proud of herself to lie and deny being the one who’d done it.

Regina is going to murder her.

 

* * *

 

“What is wrong with you? You should be ashamed; locking up your own daughter.” And calling her three hours after the fact _only_ because Emma refused to answer his questions. She will deal with Emma later but for the time being, David has some explaining to do. “Well?”

He stares, mouth open, gaping at her like a fish. She almost smirks, certain he’d been expecting her to try and talk sense into Emma. She won’t. She knows what Emma did and why once she’d learned the reason for her arrest. Moe should be grateful David had waited because she would have done worse to him. Had he still been here when she arrived, he’d be nothing more than splatters on the walls.

“Re-” Hands on her hips, she swivels her head to glare at Emma through the bars of her cell. Emma sighs, lying back on her cot as she murmurs, “Never mind.”

Satisfied, Regina sniffs and returns her attention to David. “You will release her immediately.”

“You know I can’t do that,” he protests, raising a hand when she snarls at him. “She broke the law, Regina.”

“Prove it.”

He blinks slowly at her. “What?”

“Prove it,” she repeats. “Do you have evidence that she’s the one who assaulted him? Has she confessed?”

“She locked herself in there!”

“And?” It was an admirable response on Emma’s part, though a premature and highly idiotic one. “Without proof, you are basing your arrest on the fact she decided to save you the trouble of doing your job, perhaps wrongly assuming that with her out of the way, you might be able to do said job unhindered and more efficiently.”

He glares at her, though his outrage is tampered by the very clear pride she sees in his eyes. “You and I both know-”

“What we know,” she interjects, “has no bearing on the matter, Charming. If you cannot prove she did what Moe claims she did, and without a signed or even verbalized confession from her, you have nothing.” Smiling sweetly down at him, she says, “For all we know, Moe was drunk and tripped over a misplaced bouquet, and until you prove otherwise, _Sheriff Swan_ is innocent.”

Head shaking, he stands, picking up the keys from his desk. He moves over to the cell and unlocks the door. “You’re free to go, Emma.”

She slowly sits up, brow raised. “Wait, really?”

Exasperated, Regina huffs. “Emma.”

“Right. Sorry!” Jumping up from the cot, she quickly exits the cell. Sheepish as she comes to stand before Regina, she shoves her hands in her pockets. “Thanks.”

“Remind me to never leave you alone.”

“I do,” she counters, mouth quirking. “Frequently.”

Regina snorts. “We’re leaving now.” Looking over her shoulder, she tells David, “Deputy, I suggest brushing up on police procedures before attempting any more arrests.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m sure I could find plenty of reasons to arrest you, Madam Mayor.”

Smirking, she crooks a finger at Emma and turns to leave. “That threat would hold more weight if I weren’t sleeping with Sheriff,” she retorts, gliding from the office, laughing as Emma’s gasp follows her.

“Regina!”


	31. Chapter 31

When they arrived home, Henry was waiting for them. Before he agreed to go to bed, Regina had to explain to him what had happened. His response had been to laugh himself to tears, which means she now has to deal with a mopey Emma. She doesn’t mind. Much. She would have prefered a grateful Emma- a very grateful, very naked Emma. 

Preferably in a bed. 

Preferably on top of her.

Or under her; she never has been particularly fussy about their positions at the time, though Emma does seem to be more confident and attentive when she thinks she’s in charge, and that’s always nice.

_ Oh well. _

“Here,” she says as she crosses the study to the sofa, handing Emma the beer she’d retrieved from the kitchen. “Stop pouting, you’re too attractive for it to be anything other than a challenge.”

She expects a smile or, at the very least, a twitch of the lips. Instead she gets Emma peering up at her, a twitch, and a hand grabbing her wrist and pulling her into a familiar lap; a warm, comfortable lap she has no trouble settling into with a soft sigh and a somewhat irritating, heated niggling in her chest somewhere in the near vicinity of her heart.

Emma playfully bumps their heads together and confesses softly, “I like that your idea of sympathy is chiding me with compliments.”

“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” Regina retorts. Snatching the beer from her hand, she takes a sip before giving it back. “Hmm.”

Emma rubs her nose against a cheek. “Not quite as disgusting as you imagined?”

Smiling, Regina turns and kisses her lightly on the mouth. “Not quite,” she agrees. It certainly isn’t the wine or whiskey she’d prefer and it will never compare to her cider, but she’s tasted worse things in her life. She adds, “Nor is it as appealing as you make it seem.”

Emma shrugs. “I don’t make it seem that way on purpose.” She makes a face, leveling the bottle with their eyes, and adds, “I honestly don’t even taste it anymore.”

“Drinking for drinking sake?” Regina tsks. “I’d accuse you of being an alcoholic if I didn’t know better.” Eying the side of her face, she grins, teasing, “A sexaholic, maybe.”

Mirroring the grin, Emma replies, “I think the fact you’re thinking about that at a time like this says more about you than it does me.”

“What else would I think about?” Regina drawls. “You forced me into your lap and held me hostage as you proceeded to nuzzle at me like an overly affectionate puppy.” 

Rather than reply, Emma glances down at the arm draped loosely over her thighs, then back up. She slowly raises a brow. “Hostage, huh?” She smirks. “There’s an idea.”

Regina grins, pleased she’d followed along so well. “It was inspired by recent events.” The sight of her in jail had in fact inspired a great many numbers of ideas. If Emma wants to entertain this one though, she certainly isn’t going to protest.

Emma shakes her head. “Like mother, like son,” she says, sighing dramatically. Still, somehow, appealing despite her love of the theatric. “How fortunate for the son that the mother has offered herself as ransom.”

“Oh.” Well, perhaps theatric isn’t all bad. “Do get on with it.”

“Ooh-” Emma coos, breath warm against her neck. “-a hostage who doesn’t know her place.” She nips at her jaw with teeth and Regina shivers. “Lucky me.”

 

* * *

 

“I pity anyone who tries to hold you against your will.” Pausing to consider the previous hour for a moment, Emma corrects, “Assuming you don’t end up giving them enough orgasms to melt their brains too, I mean.”

She had, of course, known better than to think Regina would cooperate with her for long, but any fool stupid enough to actually abduct her and expect her to go along with it wouldn’t stand a chance; Regina has  _ moves _ , and none of them required even the barest hint of her magic to perform.

“You’re remarkably coherent for someone with goo for brains,” Regina notes as she unties Emma’s right ankle. Tossing the impossibly soft, silk scarf over her shoulder, she climbs back onto the bed and drapes herself across Emma, humming in approval when Emma welcomes her with open arms, caressing her back. “That’s nice.”

“I’d say it’s the least I could do after that, but I’m pretty sure it’s also the most I can do at this point.”

Regina chuckles. “You’re welcome.”

“Mmm.” Burying a nose in her hair, Emma kisses the top of her head, then says, “If I’d known telling you about my insomnia would lead to this, I…”

As she trails off, Regina raises her head. “What?”

Emma smiles. Her expression is genuine curiosity, but the tone was all demand. “I was going to say I wouldn’t have waited those three days to tell you, but that’s not entirely true,” she admits, smiling wider when the curiosity shifts to confusion. She continues, “The truth is I wouldn’t have waited at all. I would have  _ jumped _ in your pocket all those years ago if I’d known this was my future.”

Brow cocked, Regina drawls slowly, “Oh really?”

“Definitely- I would have offered to fulfil  _ all _ of those Sheriff duties.” 

“I confess a certain appeal to the idea,” Regina purrs, bowing her head. She kisses Emma, deep and thorough, then returns her head to a shoulder, speaking as though she hasn’t just robbed Emma of breath, and speech, and thought. “I fear such a thing would have been ruined by you finding out I was the Evil Queen, however.”

“Maybe.”

Kissing her throat, Regina counters, “Certainly.” She kisses a path along her collarbones, then all the way back to her jaw. She kisses her chin, cheek and lips, murmuring, “You would have hated me.”

“No,” Emma denies, refusing to be distracted, no matter how soft and sweet each kiss is, or how adorable Regina is for giving them. “I tried, before and after the curse, and so many times throughout the years. I tried and it is… it’s fucking impossible to hate you, Regina. I  _ liked _ you, despite everything I knew and everything you did or tried to do, I have never not liked you.”

Head snapping up, Regina stares down at her, looking at her with an expression Emma imagines one might wear had she just informed them she likes to eat babies. It’s pretty comical. “I know,” she agrees. It’s absurd considering their history, but it’s the truth. “It probably sounds crazy- I sure as hell asked myself if I was a thousand times or more, but when you put all the bullshit aside; you’re a likeable person… smart, funny, full of so much love-”

“Evil,” Regina interrupts, “psychotic, so full of homicidal rage.”

Emma grins. “Those too.”

“Yes.”

She frowns, confused. “Yes, what?”

Sighing, smiling, Regina laughs softly. “You are crazy,” she says, kissing her again before Emma can protest, making her forget she  _ wants _ to protest as those kisses descend down her body and settle between her thighs.


End file.
